Fic: "In Junon", [PG13]
Title: In Junon
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Squeenix's, not mine.
Summary: In Junon, Rufus waits, and remembers.
Junon.
He detested it. He detested the weak men who claimed to teach him discipline and regimentation, the same weak men who in the same breath treated him like a crystal figurine: useless and decorative, but expensive. Rufus hated their hypocrisy, that same behind-the-smiling-lie beguilement that he'd seen his father practice a thousand times before.
'You go to Junon,' his father had told him. 'To further your education and to grow you a spine.'
A spine. The only reason why his father had moved him away from Midgar was his fear that Rufus had too much gall as it was. Why else, Rufus mused as he moved with his class to the practice range, why else would the President of the Shinra Company put one of his pet Turks on his own son's head? A bodyguard would have sufficed for security, for Rufus' security. Tseng had been for his father's.
Rufus looked down at the standard-issue gun he was meant to use.
How reduced his weapon was.
-
Blond hair and blue eyes had haunted Tseng while he had been in Midgar, following him as much as the Turk followed him. Predator and predator, each one thinking the other prey. Rufus had asked Tseng what the best defence was. Unblinking, Tseng had answered: a strong offence. Rufus fixed the Turk with a look, and told him that was what he wanted.
A week later, Tseng brought him a shotgun. 'Shinra developed and manufactured,' he explained, opening the case and presenting it for inspection.
Rufus removed the weapon, running a hand down the smooth, cold length of it. 'Commissioned for the Shinra it was meant to serve,' he said as he found his name there, engraved. Tseng shut the case and snapped the locks closed.
'Did you expect anything less, sir?'
Rufus' lips curved up into a smile as he held the shotgun up, cocking it with only one hand.
Tseng circled him, appraising. 'Your stance,' he stated, voice commanding as he stepped in and corrected Rufus, hands on shoulders. 'This is a weapon of power. If you choose to wield it single-handed, you will learn to take its recoil.'
Tseng moved, his chest pressed against Rufus' back, and the Vice-President knew then that he was not the only one playing actively in this game of theirs. Tseng moved his arm down to catch and stretch against the length of Rufus' own, and Rufus wondered if this was one he might even lose.
'They will teach you to shoot to disable,' Tseng said, unruffled voice low and warm against the shell of Rufus' ear. His eyes were fixed ahead at the paper silhouette of a man, ignoring their proximity. Rufus thought he would burn as Tseng increased, marginally, the pressure of fingers over Rufus' own.
A smile, feral and invisible, spread across the Turk's face. 'I will teach you to shoot to kill.'
Tseng pulled the trigger over Rufus' hand. Rufus felt his shoulder and his entire person slam back against the solid, unmoving weight of Tseng's chest.
The Turk paused for half a second to regard the clean mark through the centre of the target's head, and then took the second shot through the heart.
-
In Junon as he waited for the break in his game to end, Rufus picked up the gun. Raising the weapon and sighting, Rufus shot to kill, the ring of a shotgun-calibre and breath against his ear the ghost of Tseng haunting him in return.
Cross-posted to
ffvii_yaoi
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Squeenix's, not mine.
Summary: In Junon, Rufus waits, and remembers.
Junon.
He detested it. He detested the weak men who claimed to teach him discipline and regimentation, the same weak men who in the same breath treated him like a crystal figurine: useless and decorative, but expensive. Rufus hated their hypocrisy, that same behind-the-smiling-lie beguilement that he'd seen his father practice a thousand times before.
'You go to Junon,' his father had told him. 'To further your education and to grow you a spine.'
A spine. The only reason why his father had moved him away from Midgar was his fear that Rufus had too much gall as it was. Why else, Rufus mused as he moved with his class to the practice range, why else would the President of the Shinra Company put one of his pet Turks on his own son's head? A bodyguard would have sufficed for security, for Rufus' security. Tseng had been for his father's.
Rufus looked down at the standard-issue gun he was meant to use.
How reduced his weapon was.
-
Blond hair and blue eyes had haunted Tseng while he had been in Midgar, following him as much as the Turk followed him. Predator and predator, each one thinking the other prey. Rufus had asked Tseng what the best defence was. Unblinking, Tseng had answered: a strong offence. Rufus fixed the Turk with a look, and told him that was what he wanted.
A week later, Tseng brought him a shotgun. 'Shinra developed and manufactured,' he explained, opening the case and presenting it for inspection.
Rufus removed the weapon, running a hand down the smooth, cold length of it. 'Commissioned for the Shinra it was meant to serve,' he said as he found his name there, engraved. Tseng shut the case and snapped the locks closed.
'Did you expect anything less, sir?'
Rufus' lips curved up into a smile as he held the shotgun up, cocking it with only one hand.
Tseng circled him, appraising. 'Your stance,' he stated, voice commanding as he stepped in and corrected Rufus, hands on shoulders. 'This is a weapon of power. If you choose to wield it single-handed, you will learn to take its recoil.'
Tseng moved, his chest pressed against Rufus' back, and the Vice-President knew then that he was not the only one playing actively in this game of theirs. Tseng moved his arm down to catch and stretch against the length of Rufus' own, and Rufus wondered if this was one he might even lose.
'They will teach you to shoot to disable,' Tseng said, unruffled voice low and warm against the shell of Rufus' ear. His eyes were fixed ahead at the paper silhouette of a man, ignoring their proximity. Rufus thought he would burn as Tseng increased, marginally, the pressure of fingers over Rufus' own.
A smile, feral and invisible, spread across the Turk's face. 'I will teach you to shoot to kill.'
Tseng pulled the trigger over Rufus' hand. Rufus felt his shoulder and his entire person slam back against the solid, unmoving weight of Tseng's chest.
The Turk paused for half a second to regard the clean mark through the centre of the target's head, and then took the second shot through the heart.
-
In Junon as he waited for the break in his game to end, Rufus picked up the gun. Raising the weapon and sighting, Rufus shot to kill, the ring of a shotgun-calibre and breath against his ear the ghost of Tseng haunting him in return.
Cross-posted to
ffvii_yaoi 