Tseng says nothing. He's not sure that is a promise Rufus can make. Because what if...
It doesn't matter. He helps Rufus finish his drink and watches while he does it. Once that is done, he presses a hand to Rufus's cheek, a warning before he slowly lays him back down and takes the cup from him, depositing it in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.
He'll draw a bath for his president, silent and stony while he measures the temperature and waits for it to fill. There's a cleaner he can call to take care of the bed, which he figures they can do while Rufus is soaking. All that's left then is to retrieve him, striding silently back into the bedroom, reaching for Rufus's hand.
no subject
It doesn't matter. He helps Rufus finish his drink and watches while he does it. Once that is done, he presses a hand to Rufus's cheek, a warning before he slowly lays him back down and takes the cup from him, depositing it in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.
He'll draw a bath for his president, silent and stony while he measures the temperature and waits for it to fill. There's a cleaner he can call to take care of the bed, which he figures they can do while Rufus is soaking. All that's left then is to retrieve him, striding silently back into the bedroom, reaching for Rufus's hand.
"Hold on to me, Mr. President," he says.