His ribs are already being aggravated. Every time he breathes wrong, or moves too much, he can feel the sharp reminder that things inside him were not in the right place and poking into places they shouldn't. He's feeling pain from too many sources to respond to any singular one, but Tseng's cock making itself at home inside him seems to be the most distracting of them at the moment.

"You looked so peaceful. Beautiful." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. Tseng has done things for all of the Turks. To get them out of trouble, to protect them from harm, to protect them from themselves—like a dutiful parent, almost. It would have been cruel if he couldn't feel love for someone like that. A familial kind of love, but not quite the same. He wouldn't let family fuck him in his workplace.—or anywhere else.

"Right there on your forehead, just above the mark." Rude gets the strange impulse to touch himself as he recalls the moment. He was devastated and crying, looking down at his supervisor friend, afraid he might never see him again. That was real pain. Pain that some broken ribs, a busted jaw, and a cock in his ass could never achieve. Rude keeps that to himself. Tseng wasn't good with emotions.