[personal profile] clandestine_terrors
Title: Twisted Games
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sphinxofthenile
Pairing: implied Tseng/Reno/Rude
Rating: PG
Warning: crack
Disclaimer: I do not own the hot bishies (and Rude), SE does.
Summary: Rufus is bored. Fortunately, he has three Turks to entertain him.
A/N: My apologies.

---

You look at the last manila folder with relief. He signs that one and you are out. It’s been a tough day, and all you want is to go home, get yourself a tub of steaming hot water scented with your favourite vetivert oil, a light meal with a cup of sencha, or maybe even a small cup of sake, and just call it a day.

You don’t let it show, though. Your body language radiates your cold, collected calmness, as usual. After all, you are a Turk. And not just any guy running around in a trademark black suit. You have quite a reputation, and appearances to keep up.

No one ever said being the right hand man of the Vice President was all milk and honey.

Finally, he closes the folder and hands it to you. You don’t move. You aren’t dismissed yet.

Rufus flashes his most charming smile at you, and you suddenly have a sinking feeling in your stomach. He only wastes such smiles on you when he wants something he knows you won’t like.

Not one bit.

“Tseng, would you please assemble the Turks in my office in, let’s say, fifteen minutes?”

A request, not an order; making you want to swallow hard, but you only nod politely.

“Certainly, sir. But may I remind you that Elena is currently on a leave, and if a new case is coming up...”

“No, nothing of the like.” He interrupts, and with a simple wave of his hand dismisses you.

Leaving the office, you wonder what the bloody hell does Rufus want with the Turks if this meeting is not about a new case. Maybe it has something to do with the board meeting starting in four hours?

Whatever it is, you have a feeling that you’ll find it out soon enough.
 
---
 
Fifteen minutes later the three of you enter the office. The furniture has been moved to leave greater space before the huge desk, and the removal of the chairs that usually stand in front of it makes you suspect you are not here to sit down and talk.

But then what?

Rufus is still sitting in his leather chair, his fingertips lightly touched together and the smugest of smiles on his lips. It makes you want to turn around and get out, but you are not even batting an eyelash.
 
Then he tells what he wants the three of you to do, and your eyes widen to the size of saucers.

You must be hearing things, because what you’ve heard have never left his mouth, right? You look at the others, but they are looking back with the same disbelief, so your eyes wander back to Rufus.

The light in his eyes tells you that you’ve heard him well indeed.

Reno is the first to recover from the shock, and starts laughing so hard, that he has to grip Rude’s shoulder to remain standing, almost chocking with the words.

“You’re bein’ serious, yo?”

Somehow, you don’t find it that funny.

Rufus just nods, his face cold and emotionless this time, and you know there is no way out of this. He means it. Really means it.

For a split second you wonder what would his father’s reaction be, were he to know about it. But you push away the thought. Better not think about that.

“So, what are you waiting for?” He asks in a dangerously smooth voice, and you hear a sigh coming from Rude, as he uncomfortably shifts a little. Reno just shrugs, throws his jacket on the floor and casually sits down on the carpet to remove his shoes.
 
---
 
This is certainly the most uncomfortable situation you’ve ever been in, and just thinking about what if word of this spread makes your face hot. You still can’t believe he made you do this.

Damn, you really should’ve killed him back then when he stole your Materia and was hell-bent on stuffing them into his nose.

Damn, damn, damn.

You let out a little sigh before noticing it, and Reno turns his head back and grins at you. There is sympathy in his expression, but you can still see that he’s enjoying this immensely. How the hell can he be so... so sunny when all this is happening?

You conclude he must be just as mentally deranged as Rufus.

You are hot, and if the sweatdrops you saw on Reno’s face are any indication, you are not the only one. Being caught up between the heat of two bodies tends to do that. Not to mention the excercise this task demands.

That’s right. Call it a task, and it will be easier.

Task, task, task.

No, it’s not. Damn.

You feel your legs trembling, and you know you can’t hold on much longer. The hot breathing of Rude on your neck doesn’t really make it any more comfortable.

“Oh, you are better than that, Tseng. Don’t give up now!” His voice is so sweet with mockery, you can almost taste it. You are tempted to reply Rufus something that would surely cost you your job, but you keep your mouth shut.

Old habits die hard.

“Reno!” Rufus speaks up again, this time with a smirk. You feel like you could strangle the bastard right then and there, sitting at that desk and spitting commands.

“Oww, boss! I’m no acrobat, you know!” The redhead protests, but immediately moves to comply with the order.

How long have you been doing this? An hour? Two? By the gods, it seems like an eternity. You wonder if he wants to keep this going until the board meeting starts, and inwardly grimace at the thought.

Trust Rufus to do just that.

You are jerked back to reality as Reno’s head disappears between your legs, and you can’t hold back a hiss as he’s brushing against a sensitive spot.

Rufus is smiling like he is on the verge of bursting out laughing.

You are on the verge of collapsing and screaming.

Your left arm hurts like hell, and you know it won’t be able to hold your weight much longer. Some strands of your hair escaped the hair tie and are now plastered to your face, just like Rude’s wide chest is plastered to your back.

At least he smells of expensive aftershave and not cigarettes, like Reno does.

He haven’t spoken a word the entire time, and you wish you knew what he is thinking.

Of course you’ll never know. There is no way you are ever speaking about what happened here today. You’ll issue an order about it if needed be.

You’ll make sure no one ever learns about this shame.

 “Hey, Tseng! Wake up! It’s your turn!”

This time it’s Reno’s voice that pulls you back into reality.

“What?”

But your ears instinctly register that you don't hear the quiet rubbing noise created by the spinner before the three of them yell the answer in unison with a hint of impatiance.

“Left hand blue!”
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