[ As the other player of that game, he knows what it is to be vivisected by Rufus' gaze. Right now it feels like the edge of a blade grazing skin without yet cutting. The blood doesn't bother him either—even having some drawn would not—this is even more unnecessary for Tseng to point out than it is for Rufus.
Tseng's eyes follow his approach with quiet intent, noting every nuance, the restless energy faintly visible in the lines of his posture, and the fog hidden behind that wry smile. This isn't unfamiliar ground, and yet Tseng's own steps are more careful and measured than they may be by daylight. Paradoxical, when it is such that things disappear more easily under the veil of night. Though, the lighting seems itself tired and obscures Tseng's demeanor.
That his composure readily softens in subtle ways is visible only when they're this close. His gaze flickers to Rufus's cheek, then to his mouth, where his eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, before returning to his eyes. Up close, where Rufus can see the details—the faint lift of his brow, the softening at the edges of his mouth—Tseng lets it happen and allows a beat of silence for what is his own contentment to be seen. ]
It would be remiss of me to let you handle it alone. I have every intention.
[ Because there's certain satisfaction in Rufus cutting through the usual display of power, and simply laying his wants bare. It's different from giving or receiving orders. Personal, intentional. And Tseng likes that. Then, still in an even tone but, far far less vague. ]
no subject
Tseng's eyes follow his approach with quiet intent, noting every nuance, the restless energy faintly visible in the lines of his posture, and the fog hidden behind that wry smile. This isn't unfamiliar ground, and yet Tseng's own steps are more careful and measured than they may be by daylight. Paradoxical, when it is such that things disappear more easily under the veil of night. Though, the lighting seems itself tired and obscures Tseng's demeanor.
That his composure readily softens in subtle ways is visible only when they're this close. His gaze flickers to Rufus's cheek, then to his mouth, where his eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, before returning to his eyes. Up close, where Rufus can see the details—the faint lift of his brow, the softening at the edges of his mouth—Tseng lets it happen and allows a beat of silence for what is his own contentment to be seen. ]
It would be remiss of me to let you handle it alone. I have every intention.
[ Because there's certain satisfaction in Rufus cutting through the usual display of power, and simply laying his wants bare. It's different from giving or receiving orders. Personal, intentional. And Tseng likes that. Then, still in an even tone but, far far less vague. ]
I'll join you.