Rude lies there. The ceiling looks so fascinating all of a sudden. He knows exactly what Tseng looks like right now, so he makes it a point not to look. If he tries hard enough maybe he can go somewhere else and just mentally check out. Like if his body doesn't respond to any of it, then it's not really happening.

He squints his eyes to focus on a little speck of what might be dirt in the far corner, but the scent of blood seems to carry straight to his nose. It doesn't matter whose blood when he can smell and taste it better than he can feel any heartbeat coming from Tseng despite him being pressed so close.

It didn't make sense to think too deeply about the man on top of him. When he had moments like this, Rude found it more helpful to just let it happen and then move on as though it hadn't. Just one of those things that happens that no one in the office ever talks about. He definitely isn't going to question it now when he's barely been alive for a full 24 hours. Dark hair drags over the blood dripping down the lower half of his face, but he still keeps his eyes away from the human equivalent of Medusa.

Tseng says his name, Rude makes the mistake of making eye contact, and immediately he's rock hard.