“Obviously that is not enough, Tseng, you need to do better.” Rufus glared at the Turk’s leader from his seat at the head of the table.

“Considering the low amount of gil you put into our department it’s a wonder we can do anything at all.”

“Considering the notable amount of gil that went out from your department last year it’s amazing you’re getting any funding at all this year,” Rufus retorted.

Rude and Reno sat silent, looking like they would have rather been anywhere but right there in the Shinra conference room right then.

“Maybe,” Tseng said as he stood up, “you should try getting your own hands dirty for once instead of sending us out on your petty missions. See how you’d like that.”

“Sit down,” Rufus ordered.

“I have more important things to do than sit here and listen to you screaming over what you want but aren’t willing to pay for. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Rufus pushed out his chair, nearly knocking it over as he stood up as well. “Don’t you dare walk out of here, Tseng. I’m your President and you’ll do as I tell you.”

Tseng merely replied to that with a glare that Reno would have translated as: “fuck you, fuck your presidency and fuck your fucking company.”

The room seemed to shake as the door was slammed shut, and the two remaining Turks stared intently at their hands resting at the polished surface of the table.

*****

The bag swayed as Tseng kicked it one more time, punched it as it swung back, then finished with one more kick. It had been a sweet pleasure imagining Rufus’s beautiful face being bruised and bleeding as he’d put a little more force into every punch and kick.

Goddamn him.

He punched the bag hard one last time as he headed for the showers. A bit of work-out was always good when ever Rufus had managed to wind him up, and as of lately his former lover had done that more often than not.

He stripped himself of his clothes, leaving them in a bundle on the bench in the dressing room, grabbed his towel and went into the empty showers.

The hot water streamed down his face and body, taking him into oblivion for a brief but blessed moment.

*****

As always, there was nothing on TV when you needed an hour or two of pointless distraction. Talk-show after talk-show flickered by as he zapped through the channels, 57 channels and nothing on, that was just typical.

Outside, the snow was peacefully falling, hiding the grey city under a blanket of glimmering white. If he’d not been in such a bad mood he might have taken the time to appreciate it, but not now. His most recent fight with Rufus was still to close for him to feel comfortable so soon.

Last Christmas we… he abandoned the thought before it could really take form. He wouldn’t allow himself to admit that he missed Rufus. Not that stubborn little bastard that he felt like strangling every time he saw him. Although there were things he could imagine doing to the young president that would be even more pleasurable.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and he considered pulling his gun and blow a hole in whoever was on the other side of that door. Then he remembered that he’d installed a bullet proof door the same day he’d moved into the apartment, and besides, his gun was in his sock drawer.

With a muttered curse he pulled himself up from the couch and strolled over to the door, peering into the peep-hole to see Rufus. He unlocked and took off the chain, pulling the door open.

“Hey,” Rufus said.

Tseng just stared at him for a moment, not sure whether or not to be surprised to find him there. He looked beautiful, as always. Looking so annoyingly innocent with his white clothes and the flakes of snow glimmering in his blond hair.

“What do you want?” Tseng crossed his arms over his chest, not moving out of the way or inviting Rufus in.

“You’re stilled pissed off, aren’t you?” Rufus asked incredulously.

Tseng just raised a brow, not deign to answer such a question.

“Well, that’s good,” Rufus smiled lazily, “because I came here to make it up to you.”

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea, Rufus,” Tseng sighed, but he didn’t fight as Rufus gently pushed him into the apartment and closed the door.

“I brought your Christmas present.” He held out a small, neatly wrapped packet to Tseng.

“Why?” Tseng asked sceptically and took the box out of Rufus’s hand.

Rufus shrugged. “Figured even a jerk like you could need some Christmas spirit.”

“Thanks a lot.” The paper fell to the floor. “A tie,” Tseng observed and gave Rufus a questioning look. “I think you might have confused me with Reno, though. I haven’t really got any need for this.”

“Talk about ungrateful,” Rufus shook his head. “But I actually thought that you could find some other use for this than just the office,” he almost purred.

“Oh really?” Tseng’s stern, grumpy expression slowly faded into a softer, playful one. “And just what might you have in mind then?” he asked, putting his arm around Rufus’s waist and pulling him closer.

“Well, you can do whatever you like,” Rufus said, lightly nipping at Tseng’s jaw, “it’s your present.” He hissed as Tseng’s knee pressed against his groin, teasingly rubbing, and opened his mouth to the other’s demanding kiss.

They worked on each other’s shirts, fumbling with the buttons, nearly ripping them off. As it so often did with them, the whole ordeal almost turned into a contest who could get the other’s shirt off faster. Tseng grunted as his shirt fell to the floor first and bit down hard on Rufus’s lower lip in retaliation. Neither of them was very good losers.

Their bodies pressed close together as soon as the fabrics had been discarded. To feel the other’s familiar warmth and shape so near again was almost painfully arousing after such a long absence. Rufus’s short nails sharply dug into Tseng’s back as the Turk pushed him into the dark bedroom. He felt Tseng’s hands working on his belt buckle, impatiently tugging at it. Figuring that since he’d won the first round, Rufus might just as well take home this round as well. His own hands found Tseng’s belt, but was quickly slapped away. He tried again, put Tseng had already gotten a good head start, slapped his hand away once more and pushed him down on top of the bed. The sheets were cool and soft against his skin, and they smelt just like he remembered. Tseng pulled off his socks, then stripped him of his white pants, carelessly throwing them into the corner of the room. Rufus’s boxers soon followed.

Tseng straddled him, towering over him. Rufus tried one more time to work the pants off of the Turk but he had no luck this time either. He pulled out the tie from his pocket, took both of Rufus’s hands in a steady grip and tied them together. The other end of the tie he tied to the end of the bed.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and Rufus did as he was told, rolling over to his stomach.

He could feel Tseng leaning over to the side, reaching for something on the bedside table. There was a click and a small flame flickered in the dark.

“What are you doing?” he tried to turn around, got a glimpse of Tseng’s face in the light of a candle, before his muscles started protesting and he relaxed again.

“Getting into the Christmas spirit,” Tseng murmured close to his ear. One hand rested on Rufus’s back, gently caressing the soft skin. His fingertips teased, feather light, just at the small of his back.

Rufus shivered pleasantly, knowing what was to come. He turned his head, saw the snow falling outside, felt the scent of candle fill the room, Tseng’s fingers softly teasing him, and he realized it really did feel like Christmas.

Tseng tilted the candle, letting the hot wax fall onto Rufus’s back, feeling the other man tensing up beneath him at the quick but delightful pain. He massaged the skin, feeling the softness burning against the palm of his hand. Rufus hissed and his whole body jerked as Tseng’s hand fleetingly travelled over his ass. Another drop of wax hit his skin again, making him groan, and then there was another drop, and one more.

The candle was placed on the small table by the bed again, and Tseng got something out of the drawer.

Rufus could here him getting out of his pants, finally. Tseng stifled a groan of his own behind him, and Rufus had a pretty good guess what he was doing.

He parted his legs willingly as Tseng guided them apart with one hand. With two well lubricated fingers he teased over Rufus’s entry, circling around the hole, then pushing in the tips of the finger only to pull them out again and push in once more. Rufus bit his lip, closing his eyes. He let Tseng tease him a little longer, knowing the long wait was worth it. Slowly Tseng caressed him on the inside, sliding his fingers deep within him, so agonisingly slow.

“Tseng,” Rufus panted, “please.”

The fingers were removed and Rufus parted his legs a little more. Tseng pushed into him, burying his cock inside of him with one thrust. Rufus groaned, fingers digging into the mattress.

Tseng put his whole body over his, kissing the other man’s shoulder and neck as he moved, slow and long thrusts.

Rufus’s body moved in pace with Tseng, his cock rubbing against the soft sheets. Every muscle in his body tensed, relaxed, then tensed again. Biting his lip to keep back the groans and moans was useless unless he wanted to risk suffocating. He turned his head to the side, panting hard as Tseng steadily sped up the pace.

“Oh, gods. Tseng.”

For a brief second everything seemed to be a blur of black and purple, spinning. Tseng pulled out of him, quiet as always. Just another part of his annoying personality, Rufus recalled as he tried to rise from his haze.

Tseng’s weight kept him down as the Turk tried to work the knot on the tie open.

“For god’s sake Tseng, I’m getting a cramp here,” Rufus complained.

“You shouldn’t have been pulling it so hard, then it might have been easier to get up now,” Tseng snorted.

“Well, if you…”

“See, this is exactly why we can’t be together, as soon as you open your mouth I realize that your just the same idiot you’ve always been.” He got up on his knees to be able to work on the knot better with both of his hands. Rufus rolled over to his back, trying to rise up, being pulled back by his bonds and glared up at Tseng who looked down on him with a smirk on his face. “Maybe I should just leave you like this,” the Turk suggested.

“I’m sure you’d like that.” Rufus sneered. “All you ever…”

“God, I wish I’d used that tie to gag you with instead.”

“Really, I was just wondering myself how effective it would be to strangle someone with it.”

“You know, I spend every single fucking day missing you, cursing myself for still loving you, then I meet you and I remember why I hate you so much.” The knot finally gave in and right about then Tseng realized that Rufus was quiet, not making any smart-ass remarks or not even trying to fight him off of him. He looked down and was met by Rufus’s bright blue eyes, sparkling in the dying light of the candle, and a big grin on his face. Tseng frowned, not seeing what he was so happy about all of the sudden.

“You miss me?” Rufus asked, his grin growing even wider.

“I… do I…,” Tseng stuttered.

“You still love me. You said so, you miss me and you love me.”

“I also said that whenever I see you I remember why I hate you.”

Rufus suddenly pulled him down on top of himself and kissed him, Tseng half fighting the kiss, half giving in to it.

“A minor problem we can get by.” Rufus pressed his lips to Tseng’s again.

“Only if you learn to keep your mouth shut,” Tseng said, nipping at Rufus’s lips.

“And you can do something about your attitude problem,” Rufus suggested.

“I don’t have…”

Rufus just figured that was a good time to stop Tseng before it got out of hand once more. He kissed him deeply, not knowing if he was trying to pull Tseng down, or pull himself up.

Tseng slid off him, one arm still around his waist, Rufus held the other in both of his, planting kisses in the palm.

“You really want to try this again?” Tseng asked, more softly than he’d know even himself to be capable of.

“Yes,” Rufus whispered, curling up close beside him.

*****

“Where’s Tseng?”

Reno carefully lifted his gaze to the President’s, hoping against all hope that it wasn’t him he had spoken to.

“Tseng, um, he’s on his way… I think. I’m sure he’ll be here in just a moment, sir.” Reno wondered if he’d score any points telling Rufus that Christmas was the time of being nice… or something like that. But figured that it was most likely a bad move and kept his mouth shut, praying that all hell wouldn’t break lose as soon as his boss stepped through the doors.

And right then the doors opened and Tseng stepped in. He took his usual seat, putting a stack of folders on the table, opening one and pushed some papers over to Reno and Rude.

“Tseng,” Rufus said and Reno could feel the oncoming attack. “Nice tie.”

“Thank you, mr President,” Tseng lifted his eyes from the reports and looked directly at Rufus, “I’m particularly fond of this one.”

The End

Author’s Note: This was a kirban fic for my 4000th hit. As always, this was long overdue.
Credit: “57 channels but nothing on” is an old song by Bruce Springsteen.
The title came from Ramones’ song Merry Christmas (I don’t want to fight tonight)

©Starla 2001-12-18