[personal profile] arghmuses
Title: Always the Same: Tseng
Author: Hecate's Brat
Fandom: FF7
Rating: MA15+
Warnings: Language, implication of possible rough sex
On Going (WIP)/One-off/Series: 3 part series - complete: Rude (part 2), Reno (part 3)
Classification(s): possible AU, POV-esque,
Pairing(s): Implied Rufus/Tseng
Author's Notes: Just a glimpse into a possibility of Tseng's life.
Summary: Tseng goes through a process of getting ready.

It was always the same. Or perhaps it just seemed that way.

Tseng looked down at the bed, that just moments before held his body. He sighed softly, no louder than a whisper on a hot summer's night.

He knelt slowly in front of his altar, breathing out the name of the divine, preparing his body and his mind for the day's battles and hardships. It would always be a hardship with Rufus Shinra in his life. The man pushed him to no end. Oddly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Lighting the incense and a candle, his mind filled with visions of the blonde haired, blue-eyed man. The contempt that was constantly in his eyes.

Tseng's hands moved to the powders and bowl. Mixing, stirring and creating. Always moving.

Rufus was always a handful and Tseng never knew why Veld gave him the order to be his personal bodyguard. It didn't make any sense to him, but he did it. It was Veld's order; and as long as Veld was the leader of the Turks, he would obey. He could do no less.

The last of the creation of tilak mixture was at hand, and a chant slowly came from Tseng’s lips; a long and mournful sound, but one to keep protection at hand and evil at bay, sounded through the small room.

His hands pinned his hair back as the priests at the temple taught him, many years before, a glimmer in his past.

Slower and gentler than when he first laid hands on Rufus Shinra's body, he made the mark - the tilak - a sign considered to bestow spiritual comfort and protection against demons, bad luck, and other evil forces on his forehead. One he started wearing after joining the Turks.

Tseng could feel his world slowly fall to silence around him, the calm taking him brutally, much like Rufus would on some nights. He sometimes felt that when Rufus fucked him, that he was just trying to desecrate something holy and pristine. But how wrong that thought was; Tseng was nothing holy and far from pristine. Just a man who cared too much for the president's son, and did his job the best he could.

Slowly he bowed prostate in front of his altar, asking for protection, strength and giving thanks for the blessings that befallen upon him.

The deafening silence was broken by a cool voice, demanding that he hurry up, and to be in the meeting room within moments.

Tseng rose and watched as the white tails of the jacket leave his door frame: Yes, it was always the same.
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