Telling Rude not to mourn the death of a Turk is like telling him to dress down on Fridays. Wasn't going to happen. He hopes they'd know better than to try asking him to do either. He at least observed the unspoken rule by doing his mourning in his own way, on his own, and often violently in the case of Reno. This time was different. He had hope that Tseng would be back.

He can tell by the touch to his cheek that Tseng appreciates the gesture, even if he doesn't understand it. And history tells him that whenever the man does something that seems kind he's likely going to follow up with a sharp reminder that it would be foolish to expect that to be the norm. The sudden movement makes Rude want to reconsider his opinion that this wasn't so painful, but he can't think through the pain of having to stretch for Tseng to force him open just so Rude would take the full mass of him.

"Harder," Rude doesn't really have any physical outlet to help him take the rough movements and then keep himself open for more. Not when he couldn't touch. He turns his head to the side and bites down hard at the hand that was gently touching his cheek, not letting go. It's all he has to ask for more, plead to be touched, and encourage Tseng to get on with it in a simple gesture. This was a sort of affection Tseng might find easier to understand.