Rufus can't answer for a moment when Tseng rubs the head of his cock with an expert touch, precum already dripping down Tseng's fingers. He doesn't seem to notice or care when there is the sound of voices and footsteps outside the door of Tseng's office, keeping his gaze focused on Tseng.

"Your mouth." He reaches down to tangle his fingers in black hair to hold on and try to nudge Tseng where he wants him to go. His other hand grips one of the cushions of the couch tightly, spreading his legs a little wider if he can manage it. The couch is a bit too narrow to make it really comfortable but it doesn't matter. "Now."