Part One

Rated R for yaoi implications, some violence, and bad language.

Non-profit fan-fiction

This is the first story I'm actually posting in chapters. Why am I telling you this? I'm telling you, because if this seems stilted, I don't mean it to be. Also, the first few chapters have been revised, reformatted, and corrected in places so that the ending makes more sense. Onto the story! [Story originally posted on]

As Rufus stumbled through yet another set of identical alleyways he cursed himself for ever letting Reno persuade him to go to one of the many, many bars in Midgar alone. Currently, with the tricks his eyes were playing on him, he had no idea whether he had actually been through an alleyway, or if he had at some point turned around and started walking back dizzily. Rufus knew he was probably a very unusual shade of green judging by the pains in his stomach, and these feelings were only partially relieved when he found a bin and vomited into it. Thankful that Reno had leant him some 'casual' clothes - in other words, not white, but worn and torn - the young president wiped his mouth on his sleeve but came close to vomiting again when a gold arm was flung around his stomach.

Dragged back and slammed up against a wall, Rufus heard a click as a gun was pulled to half cock and pressed against his neck. "Rufus Shinra... the new president," A voice said in a matter-of-fact manner. Opening his eyes, Rufus realised vomiting had made him sober enough to see his attacker reasonably clear, though he still could not concentrate for any length of time.

"What do you want?" The young blond asked the stranger, trying to hide any fear of the attacker's unnatural appearance - red eyes and pure white skin, thick and untidy black hair, a gold left arm instead of flesh.

"What do you know about Professor Hojo, Rufus?"

"He's a scientist in my company. Why?" Rufus felt the barrel of the gun press harder against his neck as the stranger replied,

"Do you have ANY idea what that man is capable of? Or what he does to the people he dislikes?"

"I'm new to this job, you know! All I can tell you is that the old president hired him for being an excellent scientist. He's been with Shinra for years."

"That man almost killed me," The attacker growled angrily, and a slight amount of fear tainted Rufus' next exclamation.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, or what you want, and I swear I don't know what Hojo did to you!"

The young blond opened his eyes when he felt the gun pulled away from his neck, though it was still aimed at his chest. "Hojo obviously doesn't tell you everything, or you would fear him more than any attacker. Why do you keep such a dangerous individual with Shinra?"

"You're not exactly making me feel safe either." The gun moved back up to his neck.

"I'm not in the mood for joking around. I suggest you take a little more interest in Hojo's experiments from now on. You don't want to become one of them."

"Who... are you? What did Hojo did to you?"

"Just stay quiet and be thankful I didn't kill you." Rufus nodded as the man disappeared, just as suddenly and completely as he had arrived.

"What on earth were you doing out at this hour, sir? Are you drunk? Is that vomit on your shirt?" Tseng's angry questions reminded Rufus of his late mother, and he repressed a mocking smile.

"You should remember who is boss of whom, Tseng. I can go whenever and wherever I please. Whether I take you or not is my own decision." Tseng snarled noiselessly and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Rufus alone in his quarters.

The young president allowed the laughter to escape him before he started sorting through the papers he had left on his desk earlier, eyes falling upon a picture of his whole 'happy family'. His mood changed from general laughter to a more dark amusment, and he cut out his other parent from the picture, leaving only himself and his mother. After placing the picture of him with the only person he would ever love back gently on the table, Rufus held the other half of the photo between thumb and forefinger, debating with himself as to what he would do to it. Nothing too appalling - after all, there was a security camera directly above him - but sufficient to soothe his hatred. Rooting through the desk drawer, Rufus managed to find a cigarette lighter that had been left by the previous occupant, and used it to set the picture on fire. "Whoops," he said bitterly, watched the photo burn down to his fingers, dying out against his skin. Long ago he had learnt to forget that flames hurt, and it had been rather useful in gaining either the respect or fear of his underlings. Both emotions had the same effect upon their work.

After putting down the charred and light remains of the picture, his thoughts returned to the man who had almost killed him earlier, and he began to wonder what his name was. An unduly fascinating man. He had seemed particularly interested in Professor Hojo... maybe Hojo had been equally interested in this stranger.

"Vincent Valentine..." Hojo said the moment Rufus had described the individual's gold left arm. "Who would have imagined the bastard could survive on his own?"

"Professor, this 'Vincent' seemed to harbour a great resentment towards you. He also claimed you had performed experiments upon him." Hojo laughed in a manner that made Rufus feel queasy.

"Vincent was always melodramatic. He hates me because I stole his lover from him. And he once opposed some important... medical research I was doing. So I shot him. It's because of me that he's even alive, ungrateful little retch." Rufus nodded and declined an offer from the professor to see his latest work, admitted to himself that here was an individual he could easily learn to hate more than his father.

Before he retired to bed, Rufus began searching through public internet files for information on Vincent Valentine, but could not find out anything. Too tired to continue his research, the young president shut down his computer system and readied himself for sleep, climbing into the comforting confines of his bed and falling into restless dreams.

'lift your legs'... please, oh please yes, fuck me, fuck me hard, I want you... heaven knows I want you... 'Vincent... VINCENT!'

Rufus Shinra had never woken up so sharply in his entire life. His breathing had become so shallow he could easily have been mistaken for an asthmatic. "Shit," He gasped out loud, running his hands back through damp hair and trying to relax the muscles holding his eyes wide open. His bedsheets were hopelessly tangled around his legs and he realised that they too were soaked in sweat, which had only just stopped pouring from his forehead and chest. He had never experienced these feelings so strongly before, not even in a dream, and this novelty disturbed him greatly. Then he realised with even greater embarrassment that he had achieved orgasm during his sleep. This was going to be great gossip if word got out from the cleaners - and if there was one non-human thing that Rufus really couldn't stand, it was gossip.

After successfully removing himself from the bedsheets, Rufus looked at the clock on his bedside table and groaned. Three o'clock in the morning. He was going to be shattered when his working day started. Deciding to tackle the problem of his sweat-soaked appearance first, Rufus walked through to his bathroom and switched the light on, peeling off his night-clothes. Looking at himself in the mirror, Rufus admired the glow that covered most of his body, then blushed at his own vanity before getting into the shower cubicle.

As Rufus showered he began to wonder what could have possessed him to have such a dream. He was fine with the fact that he might have fallen for a man - he had always known his preference was not woman-oriented - but that was besides the point. This 'Vincent' was not only a stranger, but he was not completely human, and he had tried to kill him. Then it sank in. Rufus Shinra might not have been the strongest of people, but he had more than his fair share of intelligence, and he had listened to his teachers well as a child. This was a simple matter of psychology. The young president knew he had always been in control, even the previous president had been slightly scared of him, and this stranger had swept it away completely. For Rufus, danger was simply the act of losing control, and standing face to face - unarmed - with a stranger pointing a gun at his neck, was exactly that. Simple psychology; danger is a very attractive state.

Satisfied that he had not gone temporarily insane, Rufus dressed and gathered together the dirty bedsheets, deciding to do his laundry on his own. He had not reckoned on Reno. On entering the laundromat facility of the Shinra building, the president soon realised that he was not the only person doing a bit of late-night washing up. "You're certainly glowing," commented his red-haired companion as he loaded up the washing machine.

"Reno, I'm your president. You address me as sir." The young Turk merely laughed and said,

"You get horny in your dreams then, too?" Rufus slammed the door shut on the sheets and started the machine before he whirled around, pinning Reno to his seat with a glare that could cause spontaneous human combustion.

"How dare you speak like that to me!"

"Oo. Touchy." There was a ping sound as Reno's laundry finished in the washing machine. "You know what they say about denial." Rufus growled back,

"I could have you sacked for this."

"For what? I'm not proving anything." Rufus realised he had nothing to bargain with. Yet. Reno soon felt the pressure of a gun against his chest and he sighed aloud. "Alright, alright. I'll keep quiet about the sheets. God forbid anyone discover you have hormones and all that." The blond put his gun away and smiled, said,

"Much better," while politely ignoring all the words Reno muttered underneath his breath, most of which seemed to revolve around Rufus being an illegitimate male prostitute.

Part 2   |   Fanfiction