Mostly a game.

Rufus may like to play it, throw people off that wouldn't expect him to have any knowledge of such things as seduction and the implied emotional attachment, however fleeting, it brings with it. People who couldn't believe he'd leave himself exposed in such a way.

Yet it doesn't mean he isn't sometimes serious. Does he like Reeve in a romantic sense? He doesn't think so, and he'd be happy to be honest with saying that. Yet he does enjoy something about the man.

Thrill? Power? Something off limits? Someone who might actually show his partner some amount of concern and pleasure? Or merely the game? The one thing he can hide behind, because people will believe it.

He isn't even upset by the words. Reeve had a type, Rufus had a type. They weren't each others in the slightest, yet he can't help it, the soft chuckle as he closes the gap between them, hoping Reeve doesn't dart off like a rabbit as Rufus reaches up to run a finger along the skin exposed by that button-down shirt being loose.

"Is it so bad, needing someone for only a short time, Reeve?"