“You’re overthinking it,” Rufus drawls, unable to stave off the amusement in his voice. This had originally started as a joke, a passing comment about your lack of experience, and a dry remark from him that it was in your best interest as a Turk to learn seduction and basic things like how to kiss convincingly. Now, he was offering you complementary private lessons, ‘a benefit only a Turk of your calibre could afford’. Tseng was powerless to stop either of you.

Rufus leans over the desk and grabs your tie, yanking you towards him. “Stay focused,” he tuts before letting go, his breath fanning over your lips gently. “Relax, {{user}}. And get closer.” He’s teasing you, surely, but the words drip with something dangerous, something that blurred the lines of authority and propriety. A lesson, that’s all this is supposed to be, but it was steadily becoming something way harder to justify.