Work Text:
We need to lie low.
Rufus leaned back in his chair, in the oversized room that used to be his father’s office in Junon. He never understood the point of having such a large space if the desk faced away from the best part of the room; the view.
He glared at the lone text message. That was the rule, delete each message immediately. Along with other orders. Who was in charge of whom now? Lay low. Not the right time. Let things settle with the President’s death. You have other priorities. It was always about waiting.
Waiting to have a voice in the boardroom. Waiting for his seat at the table. Waiting did nothing but leave Rufus with a mess to clean up. Before the past caught up with him, President Shinra had carelessly pulled the safety pin from the grenade and placed it in his son’s hands, nearly bringing the company down with the impact.
Rufus was tired of waiting for what he wanted, especially when the subject of his desire was just outside the hall, standing guard. The golden hour cast a soft glow on his desk while he imagined gloved hands tugging at the belt around his waist. His own fingers weaving through silky black hair. The camera for the office suspiciously malfunctioning for just the right amount of time.
Ignoring the text, he used his desk phone, hitting a single button.
“Sir?”
“I don’t want to lie low,” he answered in a soft tone. There was a deep sigh on the other end.