Perfection: It Takes All Things (Part IV)
Title: Perfection: It Takes All Takes Things (Part IV)
Author: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Summary: So Cid has his Vincent and the world is safe, so all should go back to normal right? Wrong. The adventure just begins when these two find out that living with another person opens up a whole new world of trouble, laughs and really great sex!
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Timeline: Post DOC
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the FFVII characters - we're just borrowing them. Avatar art is by (the amazing) Spade.
Warnings: Two men having sex...and all things yaoi (just please take note of the rating *winks*)
Author's Note: PLEASE READ THIS!!! This is an RP, Cid is written by silence and yours truly has written Vincent and "Hodge". “Perfection” is not a plot-based “story”, it’s a series of one-shots rather like snapshots (or really strange home movies) of these two and their lives together. It’s an on-going little series within the series so updates will most likely be a bit more erratic than for Prelude To Perfection, and will never really end. If anyone has any suggestions for an “adventure” for these two to have then shout it out, but please realize that it may be a while before we can get to it as we have a lot of work left to do :D. I also want to say that Vincent has more self confidence in these stories, having finally put his past behind him, where it belongs…that and Cid gives him more to worry about ‘now’ so that he doesn’t have the luxury of ‘dwelling’ anymore.
A/N Addendum: In this fic, silence and I exercised our creative license and played a little with the origins of Shiva. We do not know the true story of this entity, so we created one for ourselves. Also, this one is pretty long, so we thank you in advance for your patience and we hope that you enjoy it!
For a chronological listing of the stories (the order in which these events happened in their lives) please click HERE
We would like to extend a belated but very heart-felt "Thank You!" to ani_mama ! She did it again! In a couple of wonderful pics she captured "Perfectly" the relationship that Hodge has with both Cid and Vincent! We continue to be indebted to you for all your support!! Thank you! *hugs*
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Silence. There was nothing but silence. Not the oppressive kind that pressed painfully upon the ears, but rather the peaceful kind that lulled one gently into sleep. It was neither too warm, nor too cold, and Vincent could not remember the last time his body had ever felt so comfortable. He laid still, eyes closed, his arms restfully by his sides and just barely managed to wonder where he was, and what had happened to put him there. But try as he might, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Slowly, unthreateningly, he became aware of a presence by his side, but again he dismissed it for the rapturous bliss he was in. That is until he caught the scent, creeping up to and around him along with long-buried memories of a life past. Cigar smoke with a hint of dusky cologne.
He knew that smell, knew it as sure as he knew his own soul. “Father?”
“My son,” was the gentle reply, followed by a large, soft hand being placed upon his forehead. “So much pain, Vincent. It is not fair that life has asked so much of you. And demands more still.”
“What?” he whispered. He wanted to open his eyes, to look upon a face he had nearly forgotten, but still so beloved, but could not.
“You are not meant to,” was the cryptic reply, as though Grimoire could read his thoughts. “This was the only way for Chaos to fulfill his oath, you must understand.”
“What?” He slurred. Had been able to, the vagueness and stupidity of his replies to the man he respected the most in the world would have galled and embarrassed him, but he could not control his mind, nor it would seem, his tongue.
Grimoire chuckled, a rich and soothing sound. “Chaos learned, Vincent. Imagine, my son, teaching Gaia’s Squire a lesson in love and mercy.” There was a deep pride in the man’s deep voice. “Your mother and I miss you, son. We want you with us…” the large hand moved to stroke his hair and when Grimoire spoke again, his voice was sad. “…But that is not to be. Not yet.”
“I don’t understand.” Vincent said, struggling in vain to open his eyes.
“Shh,” Grimoire murmured, “You are not meant to. As much as we want you with us, there are others who need you…and love you. The planet has deemed you worthy, Vincent, and so your story continues. You must be strong, my son, for you shall know pain unlike any other. And unlike any other, only you can bear it. Look to your heart, Vincent.” He then felt warm, soft lips upon his forehead, “I am so very proud of the man you have become, my son, and I love you very, very much.”
Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but before any words could escape, the “floor” fell out from under him, and with sickening speed, he fell, the warmth and comfort -and his father- sliding away and out of his grasp. He fell for what seemed an eternity…
Cid had woken several times from the torturous sleep that visited him. The first time, upon discovering that his body was again his and not a woman’s, he had leapt up, ignoring the dizziness and the protests of his sleeping limbs and aching head, and gone to the bedroom to rejoice with Vincent. Only after opening the door and seeing the empty bed did he remember that Vincent was gone. His eyes fell on the mantle, left lying on the dresser, and suddenly the pain returned and the dizziness hit him full force. Scooping up the cloak, he had stumbled blindly back to the couch, where he drew the tattered cloth over himself like a blanket. It smelled like Vincent, and Cid, with tears in his eyes, had fallen asleep again just after a very puzzled Hodge had joined him on the couch again to examine the cloak. The next time, he found the cushion beneath him damp with tears he had shed in his sleep, and the next, he remembered seeing Vincent writhing in agony, hearing that heartrending scream and the fickle comfort the others offered him. He did not leave his place on the couch again, opting instead to roll over every time he woke, clutching the cloak to him, and pray for sleep.
Vincent awoke with a startled gasp and flailing limbs. Scrambling backward wildly he bumped into and pressed against what felt like a headboard to a…bed? Pushing at the hair that fallen into his face he looked around frantically. Where am I? As he continued to look around, his eyes lit upon a familiar painting of an airship on the far wall, a mirror over an equally familiar dresser, a pile of rumpled clothes on the floor and his own clothes hanging neatly in the closet. I’m home? But I thought… His hands flew to his chest and he groaned softly in relief; no breasts, and upon reflex they moved down to cup his groin. Thank the gods, he thought, slumping back against the headboard as the realization that all his correct “plumbing” was back where it should be. It was then that he realized the bed was made, and that the only evidence of occupation was the rumples he himself had made. “Cid?” he called softly, sliding off the bed, concern beginning to make him nervous. Walking out into the sitting room, he finally found the pilot, curled up under his cloak on the couch, one arm wrapped around Hodge, who to his credit was not complaining at all. Cid’s face was ruddy and tear-streaked, and he reeked of old alcohol. “Oh, Cid,” Vincent breathed and fell to his knees next to his exhausted lover. Did you miss me that much? Just how long was I gone? He reached out and gently stroked flattened and limp blond hair. Leaning in close to Cid’s ear he said softly, “Cid?” The only response was a violent twitch that caused him to fall back onto his ass, and some muttering. When the twitching didn’t stop but instead seemed only to grow in frequency, he re-situated himself next to Cid and rested his head on his arm; the other finding its way back to threading fingers through blond hair. A little smile came to his lips as he remembered what his mother used to do when dreams would torment him as a child. His voice rough and a little gravelly, he softly sang the old, old lullaby:
“Golden slumber kiss your eyes,
Smiles await you when you rise.
Sleep, pretty baby,
Do not cry,
And I'll sing you a lullaby.
Care you know not,
Therefore sleep,
While I o'er you watch do keep.
Sleep, pretty darling,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.”
Gradually the twitching slowed, then stilled and a tear found its way out of Cid’s closed eye, and it tore at Vincent’s heart. “Oh, Cid…I’m so sorry…” he said, gently wiping away the tear and continuing to watch the tormented face of his lover in sleep.
“Vin…Go ‘way.” He wanted to wake up, to see Vincent, but he knew what he would see: Vincent in pain on that cold floor, empty space where he should have been, the cloak, lacking its owner, abandoned on the dresser never to be used again. “Don’ wanna see. Don’ make me see it again,” he pleaded, voice slurred by both sleep and the alcohol he had consumed.
“Okay,” Vincent whispered, laying his head next to Cid’s. “Okay, Cid. Just sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”
“No!” Cid near-shouted, doing his best to roll away from Vincent while keeping his hold on Hodge. He ended up with the side of his face pushed firmly against the cushion. “Make it stop.”
Not liking the fact that he was getting rather squeezed and squished, not to mention Quiet and Gentle was here, made for a very upset cat and with a squall, Hodge began to violently struggle. Digging in his hind claws the furry blond cat finally wriggled out of Cid’s grasp and leapt off the couch to begin purring quite loudly, and winding himself around Vincent’s seated body. Vincent by contrast drew away from Cid when the pilot yelled at him and sat, quite startled, only petting Hodge out of sheer reflex.
“Damn cat,” Cid grumbled, groping for Hodge, having woken when claws had pierced his skin. Hodge wasn’t there, but he was close. And purring. “Vin?” He only purred like that for Vincent, but Vincent wasn’t here. Vincent was gone. “Gone,” he reminded himself aloud, keeping his eyes closed.
At this, Vincent snorted. “Hardly,” he said wryly, a little peeved at Cid’s reluctance to open his eyes, “And since when did you get so fond of my cat? I thought you two hated each other.” Then he said more gently, “Cid, open your eyes.”
“Jus’ lemme go back t’sleep, dammit,” Cid complained stubbornly, trying to keep the oncoming sob at bay. “It don’t hurt when’m sleepin’. ‘Least, I don’t feel it, anyhow.” The small shudder that ran through him made the cloak slink off him and to the floor. Annoyed, he cracked an eye open as he reached for it, and then opened the other, deciding he may as well recapture Hodge while he was awake and active. But there was a hand on Hodge’s back, and it wasn’t Cid’s. Brow wrinkled in suspicion, Cid tilted his head up, fully intending to give Tifa a piece of his mind (again) for trying to “help him through this.” His eyes widened as they took in Vincent’s face. Cid lost his grasp on the edge of the couch and pitched forward, barely catching himself only moments before colliding with Vincent. He shook his head, chest clenching. “M’dreamin’ again, huh? Dammit, Vin, if y’re gonna leave me, don’t tease me about it.”
On reflex, Vincent’s hand came out and steadied Cid’s forward momentum as the pilot caught himself. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, “I can assure you that you are most certainly not dreaming, Highwind.” He gave a small grin, then brought his other hand up to cup Cid’s stubbly cheek, “…I won’t leave you, Cid. Not again,” he whispered.
“You will. When I wake up.” He said this, but he no longer believed himself asleep. After regaining his balance and sliding himself onto the floor beside Vincent, he carefully reached out a hand and grasped Vincent’s shoulder lightly, rubbing over the uppermost part of the arm with a thoughtful look on his face. His eyes lit up. “Didja take me with ya? Is that what happened? Oh, dammit, I killed th’fuckin’ cat!? M’sorry, Vin!” he said, finally losing the battle with the tears and sobs as he realized that he had no idea what was going on.
“Oh, Cid,” Vincent choked and wrapped his arms around his distraught lover. “You didn’t kill the cat. I didn’t take you with me, rather I think you might have been the reason I came back.” Although truthfully he didn’t know how or why he had come back, but he wasn’t about to look a gift chocobo in the mouth. He squeezed Cid tightly and was further relieved to feel his old strength coursing through his body, and when he heard Cid wheeze, he eased back on his embrace with a muttered apology accompanied by a furious blush.
“Don’t let go,” Cid murmured, putting his arms around Vincent in return. “Not yet.” He held tightly for a while, then pulled back without letting go to lock eyes with Vincent. “It hurts so much, Vin.”
Vincent swallowed. “I know how much it hurt to walk away from you Cid, and I-I know how much it ripped me apart to see your face as I…” He shook his head furiously, sending his hair back into his face, but he left it in favor of holding onto Cid. He rested his forehead against Cid’s and murmured, “I can only imagine how hard it was for you. I have a new reason not to sleep now, because I will always see the pain on your face….”
“I woulda stayed like that f’rever. I think we all would have if it was only about us. I reckon you know that already, but…well, in case y’didn’t. An’ I- well, it’s over now, ain’t it?” He shook his head and moved it to rest on Vincent’s shoulder. “It’s all over.” One of his hands made its way down Vincent’s back and up it again, repeating the motion as he had so many times. “What hurt th’most was knowin’ it’d hurt ya more if y’came back. Don’t let me help it hurt, Vin. Keep me in line, ‘kay?” Cid gave a weak, tremulous attempt at a smile as he pulled back again to meet eyes in as much turmoil as his own. The hand not stroking Vincent’s back rose to cup a smooth cheek. “Wanna see if we c’n make it better?” he asked, wanting simply to strip them both and press their bodies together, affirming both their recently regained physical states and Vincent’s presence.
Vincent’s eyelids fluttered briefly and he swallowed hard, feeling the familiar tingling in his belly that was the very beginnings of arousal. “Is that what you want, Cid?” He leaned in and caught Cid’s lips with his own. “To make it stop?” He kissed the blond again, more forcefully this time, sliding his tongue into an eagerly opened mouth. “Oh, what delicious pain,” he moaned absently as he leaned more heavily into the pilot.
Cid corrected, “Not stop. If we make it stop, we ain’t learned nothin’.” What did he want, then? Cid didn’t know, not in the sense of the abstract. But now, right now, he wanted Vincent. “But I’m tired o’ hurtin’, Vin, an’ I’m tired o’ seein’ you hurtin’. Lemme make ya feel good th’best way I know how.”
“Then I can think of much better place to do it than here on the floor,” Vincent murmured and got to his feet, helping Cid to stand as well before leading them into the bedroom and to the now slightly rumpled bed.
Once they were both in the room and the door was firmly shut behind them, eliminating any chance of interruption by Hodge, who had long since learned not to howl and scratch at closed doors, Cid dropped to his knees again, wrapping his arms around Vincent’s legs. “Love ya so much,” he breathed against Vincent’s hip, moving one arm and lifting the shirt he wore to kiss the skin beneath it.
Breathing coming in quicker pants, the tingle Vincent had felt when he had first kissed Cid had tightened more acutely into a throb, and instinct had him widen his stance. His hand once again found its way to Cid’s hair and he said raggedly, “I love you more.” With a quick tug, he pulled the shirts he wore over his head and bared his chest. “What are you going to do about it?” he breathed, looking down at where Cid knelt in front of him.
“Y’do. I know ya do. I can’t ever hope t’feel that much, no matter how much I try. But I love ya with all I have, an’ that’s all I c’n give. I just gotta keep hopin’ it’s enough.” He smiled up at Vincent, slightly taken aback by the look on his face. “As fer what I’m gonna do about it…better get these off too.” Cid stood and pushed down the baggy pants that hung on Vincent’s hips. He licked his lips at the sight of his Vincent come back to him. After removing his own clothing, Cid encouraged Vincent to lie on his back on the bed, and Cid crawled up to meet him. “How patient c’n ya be t’night, Vin?” he asked, grinning.
Vincent stretched, delighting in the feel of the duvet under his back and his lover on and around him. He brought an arm up to rest behind his head. “Well,” he purred, “that would depend upon you, Cid.”
Watching the arch of Vincent’s arm as he stretched it and the angle it made when he laid his head on it, Cid said, “Be still for me, then,” and, starting at the bent elbow he had watched, used his mouth and hands to shower attention upon Vincent’s body. His hands moved over Vincent’s chest and belly as he kissed and nuzzled his way from elbow to armpit. They moved downwards as his mouth did, skimming smooth, angled hips as Cid suckled briefly at one nipple, looking up at Vincent as he switched to the other, adding teeth this time to watch the reaction.
Vincent shut his eyes to better focus upon the feel of Cid’s lips upon his flesh, the work-roughened hands as they explored his naked body. He gave a series of gasps as Cid kissed down to one nipple then a small cry as he felt teeth upon the other. His body was waking up in a fire of sensation as he raised his knees to create a cradle for Cid’s hips. His cock was hard and his cheeks were hot, flushed from desire and the craving for more. He couldn’t stop the shiver as he felt Cid’s hand up high on his inner thigh, and he parted his legs a bit further.
Made impatient by Vincent’s shifting beneath him and the sounds that reached his ears, Cid braced himself with his hands and kissed a quick line from where his mouth was to Vincent’s lower abdomen. Nuzzling both the soft flesh there and the hard, breathing deeply before taking first the head of Vincent’s cock into his mouth and then as much as he could reach, Cid made sure to slick the organ as well as he could; it was all that would be present later. Vincent gasped again, and Cid pulled away, albeit reluctantly. He met Vincent’s eyes as he raised himself up onto his knees and positioned himself appropriately.
Tongue-tied and very nearly disbelieving, all Vincent could do was stare at Cid. But very quickly his body caught up and on his next exhale he groaned, “Yes.” Then his brain caught up. “No!” He wrapped his hands around Cid’s hips, stopping his lover. He shook his head. “I won’t hurt you, not like that…where’s the lubricant…” He turned his head and began to reach for the nightstand.
“Dammit, Vin, I need this. You oughta understand that. Need t’feel ya like this. Let me have what I need.” Cid tugged at Vincent’s hands. They threatened to knock him off balance, and that would lead to an end Cid was sure neither of them desired.
Vincent rolled back and looked long and deep into Cid’s tired, needy eyes. He knew that look, understood it better than anyone else on the planet. Swallowing, he placed one hand on Cid’s hip, and the other around his erection to hold himself in position.
Cid nodded and started to sink down, trying to hold back any signs of what went far beyond discomfort into real pain. His breath came in harsh pants after a while, and it took him longer than he would have liked to fully sheathe Vincent within him. Even then, the pain was still there. Bearable, necessary -in Vincent’s words, delicious- pain that Cid could not remember ever craving before. When his body had adjusted well enough, he began to move in slow, shallow motions, looking to Vincent for approval and guidance.
Gritting his teeth against the rough, clenching pleasure/pain, Vincent gripped Cid’s hips and began to thrust up, meeting Cid’s downward fall with his own upward push. He couldn’t look at the pain on Cid’s face, but he knew what he had to do to erase it. Dragging forward on Cid’s hips, he tilted the pilot’s body until just the right angle… With a stiff jerk and harsh cry, Cid’s eyes widened, then rolled back as each small thrust petted that sweet spot deep within the man’s body. With a groan, Vincent’s head lolled back and he began to thrust harder and faster, ricocheting his hips off Cid’s buttocks to the backdrop of smacking skin and ragged breathing.
Cid could do nothing but keep moving at the pace and angle Vincent had found for them. This was rougher, rawer than most of the times they had been together in the past, and Cid knew it would be a long, long time before he wanted a repeat. Keeping himself upright was trouble enough; he was glad Vincent had elected to do something other than lie there and enjoy it. He reached for himself with one hand and made himself look to Vincent’s face. “Talk to me, Vin.”
“What can I say that- ah!” He gasped as muscles twitched and jerked. Panting, his head rolled to the side, eyes sliding shut, “You feel…so good…ngh!” As Cid’s body sank back down upon his erection, he held the pilot in place and rolled his hips. He paused a moment to let them both catch their breaths, and when he cracked his lids again, a slow grin began to form, “Do you like this position, Highwind?” He reached his hands around Cid’s waist to knead parted buttocks. He gave another roll of his hips, grin growing even wider, and more predatory as Cid groaned and let his head fall back. Easily, Vincent sat up, and began to kiss and nip at Cid’s bared throat. “I love the way you taste, Chief,” he growled, “all salty and sharp.” He bit down hard on Cid’s neck, then pulled back to breathe raggedly against Cid’s neck. “Just like your mouth.” He then pulled Cid’s head back up to capture said mouth in a devouring kiss.
A small sound of surprise issued from Cid’s throat at first, but then he relaxed into the kiss, intense as it was, more than happy to let Vincent lead fully and completely. When they broke apart, he gave a long, happy sigh. He had been waiting to have Vincent’s hands on his ass since they had kissed in the living room, and he wiggled against them now, wanting the touch to be firmer, more solid than this kneading. “Mm…yeah, I like it. Like bein’ able t’see ya, touch ya. Like yer cock in me.” He smiled against Vincent’s neck, where his mouth had ended up when he had shifted to wrap his arms around Vincent’s shoulders and lean heavily against him. “Like that a lot,” he emphasized, the words muffled. “But what I like even better,” he said, pulling back a little, “is knowin’ we c’n stay in bed all day just lovin’ each other. An’ that’s just what we’re gonna do, ain’t it?” He brought his forehead to Vincent’s again and held his eyes. “Fer now…show me how y’want me, how much y’want me.”
With a growl, Vincent rolled them over, hooking an arm under one of Cid’s knees as they moved and catching the other as Cid settled onto his back neatly - and very nearly folded in half. “I like you like this,” he rumbled into Cid’s neck where he nipped and licked the soft skin there. “On your back with your legs in the air,” he groaned, low and deep as he rolled his hips yet again, making Cid gasp and squirm. “Now what shall I do, Chief?” he asked, raising his head to look down into Cid’s flushed face, easily as flushed as his own. He narrowed his eyes and waited for Cid’s answer while continuing the rolling, circling motion, thoroughly enjoying Cid’s desirous expression and fluttering eyelids.
Cid let out a harsh gust of breath and tightened his arms where they held onto Vincent, his hips jerking toward Vincent’s in response. “Too good,” he panted. “Gods…” What else could he ask for? Vincent inside him, all around him- he had it all. Finally, “Kiss me,” he said simply, looking back up at Vincent expectantly. “An’ make it good,” he added cheekily, though he had to grit his teeth against the pleasure to do it.
“My pleasure,” Vincent purred, and caught Cid’s lips again, beginning first chastely, teasing along Cid’s upper lip, then lower before finally stroking his tongue along where they met as he began to thrust deep and hard with his hips. When Cid parted his lips, Vincent slanted his own against the pilot’s and delved deeply with his tongue. He caught the gasps that came from Cid’s throat with his mouth and worked his jaw, pressing more firmly as their tongues slid and stroked over each other’s. Finally they separated, both gasping for breath. “How was…that?” Vincent panted, even as he continued to move his hips against Cid’s buttocks.
Cid just made a small sound of defeat and let his head fall back. One hand slid off Vincent’s shoulder; he moved it to cover his mouth to stifle the next sounds that threatened to leave his throat. Eyes shut tight and teeth clamped shut, he tried to force his mind away from realizing that he had very nearly lost this for good. After swallowing, he removed his hand and touched Vincent’s face with it, squeezing with his legs as well as he could to urge Vincent on while moving his body in time with the other’s. “I need you first,” he choked, clenching weakly around Vincent. “Need t’feel ya.” The other hand, too, moved to cup the other side of Vincent’s face. Face flushed, eyes wide and wild, he demanded, “Come for me, Vin,” in a low groan.
Vincent was both startled and entranced by Cid’s eyes, and he could no more look away than he could control his own body as the pleasure overwhelmed him. With a gasp and a held breath, he clenched his teeth and released into Cid, feeling something besides his essence leave his body. It was something even more primitive, more spiritual than physical and it left him feeling drained…and owned. And it felt right, somehow. He blinked slowly as a soft vibration began in his chest, one he hadn’t felt or heard in a very long time; a sound that only Cid could initiate in him. He shifted in Cid’s embrace until the pilot’s legs slid from his arms, and he could pull out and just settle down onto his lover’s body. Bracing on his elbows and forearms, he brought his hand up to brush lightly across Cid’s face. “My pilot,” he breathed, “my ornery, crude, rough-handed, belligerent…loving, pilot. Never have I been so glad to come home.”
“Yes,” Cid breathed as his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Vincent’s release fill him. “Shit, yes.” When Vincent finished speaking and settling onto him, Cid lifted his arms to loop them around Vincent’s shoulders again. He smiled at the purring, both comforted by it and pleased with himself for inspiring it. His cheek rested against Vincent’s now as they lay together, Vincent still purring and Cid just holding him and breathing. This was all he needed.
When they finally settled down to rest, Vincent lay half on his side and half on his back with Cid curled up on and around him, the blond-haired head cradled on his shoulder and the man’s face buried in his neck. He just slowly and gently stroked Cid’s back in lazy, comforting circles until Cid’s breathing eased off into sleep, the pilot’s arms tightening about him. It was rather uncomfortable, but there was no way he was going to resituate them, not with Cid resting so peacefully. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, for once not even remotely tired after sex. He tried desperately to remember what had happened after Chaos had taken his life, but could only come up with the dim memory of red eyes. He frowned. The only other person he knew of who had red eyes besides himself was his father; could it have been Grimoire? But try as he might he just couldn’t come up with anything other than that his coming back was for a reason, and he didn’t think it was Cid, not entirely. That realization chilled his blood and filled him with fear, causing him to tighten his arms about his lover. Whatever it was that the future and fate held in store for him, as long as he had Cid, he could face it…face it and conquer it. He kissed the crown of Cid’s head and murmured a stanza of an old poem that he remember from his studies in literature when he was at the Academy:
“When fate passes nigh
to break us upon her rocky shores,
I look to my heart and see only you;
and with ne’er a regret nor sorrow, so shall I pass unto the dawn.”
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Cid had refused to let Vincent out of bed until nearly 10 A.M., and he could see it was driving him a little crazy. “Guess I’ll go get breakfast started, then. I’ll bring it to ya if y’wanna stay here,” he teased, a giant grin forming on his face at the look Vincent started to give him. Vincent joined him in the kitchen, fully dressed, as he was finishing up the eggs. “Are they right?” he asked nervously.
Vincent cocked his head and peered at the food that Cid held out to him. He hoped that Cid’s timidity would not last very long, as he missed his brash, mouthy, and hardheaded pilot. “They look great, actually,” he confirmed, and took a seat at their table, not wanting to smother or coddle the man and encourage his behavior, even as he understood all too well where Cid’s fear came from.
“Do they? Good, m’glad.” He heaped food onto Vincent’s plate and placed the remainder onto his own. He sat across from Vincent and spent a good deal of time staring at him in what was almost awe before beginning to eat. “I know y’didn’t have a choice about comin’ back, but you bein’ you, y’coulda come back an’ slipped outta here an’ let us all go on believin’ y’were gone. Y’coulda disappeared and wouldn’t nobody’ve ever found ya. Guess what I mean by that is…thank ya fer comin’ back t’me. Thank ya so much.”
“Well I didn’t have much choice in that matter, seeing as I was plopped right smack dab in the middle of our bed,” Vincent muttered, picking at his eggs before finally taking a bite, nodding in approval of both taste and texture. When he looked up and saw Cid’s heartbroken expression, his own softened. “If coming back meant that I could not return to you then I would prefer to stay dead, Cid.” He studied Cid’s dubious expression a while before continuing, “I did not jest when I said that you mean everything to me, and that my heart is yours. My home is here, with you. This is where I belong.”
“That’s right,” Cid agreed firmly, “and don’t you ferget it.” They finished their meal in silence, Cid occasionally sneaking glances at Vincent. He had showered earlier that morning -Vincent, with Hodge curled on his chest, had still been asleep- and was very glad for that. Nothing was more disgusting to him than the feeling of not being bathed, though he did frequently go for more than a day without a shower. Four was too much. Far too much. After finishing the dishes with Vincent’s help, Cid led the way into the living room and sat in Vincent’s chair, looking hopefully at Vincent as he spread his arms.
Grinning, Vincent shook his head, now how could he refuse that face? Gently he settled on Cid’s lap and leaned into the pilot’s chest, nuzzling the man’s neck. “And what, exactly, would be the plan for today?”
Cid groaned, “M’sposed’a have a plan? Well…guess we could check up with ever’body else an’…no, not yet. Wanna keep ya t’m’self another day, an’ then we’ll check on them. Tifa’s all right, I know. She came up t’see me once, make sure I was eatin’ an’ all. He grinned sheepishly, eyes on the floor. “I wasn’t. But she sorted me out good, lemme tell ya.” It felt so good to have his arms around Vincent…but he really hated this chair. “So I guess th’plan fer t’day is…hell, d’we really hafta do anything but this?”
Vincent pulled back from where he had been nibbling on Cid’s neck to frown. “That is not what I wanted to hear.” He framed Cid’s face with his hands. “You take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here, doesn’t mean you just give up.” He grew earnest. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much, but it really did. “You promise me, Cid Highwind, you will take care of yourself.” He fought back the irrational spike of fear. “Please.”
“I will, Vin. I would have. I just needed…needed some time. An’ I would be ashamed o’ m’self, when I woke up, an’ tell m’self how upset y’d be t’see me that way. It wasn’t doin’ much, but I woulda snapped out of it eventually.” But I don’t know when. He took Vincent’s hands in his and laced their fingers together. “There’s no reason fer me t’live if you ain’t here. But if you want me to, I will.”
Vincent searched Cid’s face for a moment before nodding and, slumping down, settled more comfortably on Cid’s lap. “I’m sorry…I-I do not know why that is so important to me.” He examined Cid’s strong, capable hand; work-calloused palm, thick, blunt fingers and compared them, not for the first time with his own delicate, long-fingered ones. He didn’t have the hands of a warrior; he had the hands of an artist, and he thought ironically, It’s funny that the warrior is the artist, and that who should have been the artist is the warrior? Both fight, but while one chooses to create, the other chooses to destroy.
There was a tightness in his chest, “But the thought of you not in this world…I don’t know, frightens me? Saddens me? I am not sure. Perhaps it is just simply the fact that if I cannot be here to care for you, I need to know that you can do so on your own, and perhaps-perhaps find someone who could care for you in my place.” With a sigh, he brought Cid’s hand up against his chest, leaning his head against the pilot’s shoulder, he voiced what he felt with absolute and frightening conviction, “Let us not have to test that again, shall we? Because I cannot exist…in any way, shape or form…without you.” It was unusual, abnormal for someone to feel so strongly towards another, but Vincent could do nothing to explain why he felt as he did towards Cid. Trapped in the past and forced to live in the future, Cid was his bridge in between the two…and his reason, now, to exist.
“No, there ain’t nobody else fer me, honey. Never was.” That was all he said before putting one arm around Vincent again and holding him tightly. The other hand held Vincent’s head to his shoulder, and the fingers began running through the thick hair on instinct. He wouldn’t listen if I said it’s th’same way fer me. An’ I feel like it is, but…he feels so much more’n I do. So I guess it ain’t. Cid immediately stopped that train of thought; he would not allow anyone, even himself, to convince him that his love for Vincent was not absolute. Cid smiled. “This chair just ain’t big enough for both of us, is it?” he asked, shifting to keep Vincent from sliding off him onto the floor. “Gotta clean that couch…”
Eyes drooping under the hypnotic stroking of his hair, Vincent mumbled, “How would you suggest we…” he inhaled deeply and let it back out as he sighed, “…do that?” Relaxing completely into Cid and the man’s petting, it did not please him one bit to hear the firm, brisk knock on the door. “Who could that be?” He groaned, “Maybe they’ll go away if we don’t answer it.” But the knocking kept coming until he finally grumbled, “Cid would you, would you mind terribly getting that? I don’t think I’m in a state where I could speak with anyone civilly at the moment.”
“Yeah, an’ nobody expects me t’speak civilly anyhow, so it don’t matter, right?” Cid snorted, equally unhappy with whoever it was on the other side of the door. Reluctantly, he slid from beneath Vincent, giving the gunman his chair back, and leaned over to press a lingering kiss to his forehead before finally answering the door. He groaned inwardly when he recognized their visitors. Goddamn Turks… His eyes found Rude and narrowed as he remembered the all-too-friendly manner he’d shown with Vincent a few days ago. “Th’hell d’ya want?” he asked in a bored tone, wondering how best to both make them go away and avoid trouble.
“Where were you last time we dropped by, eh?” Reno asked by way of replying.
“We were out. Th’girls said y’d been here, but we figured y’d come back if it was important.”
“And here we are. Where are they?”
“Went back home. Was real nice t’see Eth again, lemme tell ya. Sweet girl, huh?”
Rude spoke next, asking, “And where might ‘home’ be?”
“Not thinkin’ ‘bout harrassin’ our girls some more, huh? Tori said y’d been a little too happy t’see ‘er.”
“She’s real easy on the eyes, I gotta say,” Reno commented, closing his eyes as if trying to better recall the memory of her.
“Well, she ain’t nothin’ fer your eyes t’be lookin’ at,” Cid snapped, reflexively trying to close the door. His eyes widened when Reno pulled a smirk on him.
“Gotcha,” he said smugly. “Now are you gonna let us in and introduce us properly or what?”
Sighing in resignation, Cid opened the door to let their “guests” inside, looking apologetically at Vincent as he took his own chair.
Vincent groaned when he saw who marched into their living room as if they, too, lived there. Reno flopped down on the couch while Rude took up a position just to the left of the couch, “What do you two want?”
“Answers.” Reno said simply, before turning his head and sniffing the armrest of the couch before sitting back up. “Ya think ya fooled us, but there wasn’t any Ethel or Victoria was there, eh?”
Vincent shrugged and rolled his eyes, saying sarcastically, “That’s right. Wow, you two are sharp, I’m impressed. So Cid and I just woke up one day as women and that just happened to be the day that you decided to come by and see us, is that it then?”
Both Reno and Rude scowled, but neither said anything.
Cid snickered. “Lookit the big guy, Vin, how disappointed ‘e is.”
Rude turned to Cid, who grinned brilliantly back at him.
“Well, what’s th’story, then? We know nothin’ happened t’ya’ll’s lot. How th’hell’d y’know t’come check up on us?”
“We don’t have to tell you anything,” Rude said simply, still looking at Cid, who assumed he was glaring behind the glasses.
Cid raised an eyebrow. “’Scuse me? When y’re feelin’ up my man, specially knowin’ it’s him, you owe us a hell of a lot more’n an explanation.”
Reno looked at Vincent after rolling his eyes at the exchange between the two larger men. “Well, Valentine, shall we let the children play while we have an intelligent discussion?”
Vincent said nothing, just stared unblinkingly at Reno until the redhead began to fidget. Finally he said darkly, “You knew?”
Reno smirked, “Of course we knew! C’mon Valentine, a whole lotta coincidences there: the eyes, the glove, the fact that Victoria and Ethel came together, I mean seriously! Did’ju really think we were that stupid?”
Vincent steepled his fingers in front of his nose and raised an eyebrow. “Not entirely. Regardless of however stupid you may be, you are perceptive and what you do with that information is what ultimately determines your intelligence. Quite frankly I am surprised that you are a Turk, seeing as you have the distinct inability to control yourself. Now cut to the chase or leave here. I am not in the mood to play games.”
“What I wanna know,” Cid interjected, having abandoned Rude to sit at the hypothetical big kids’ table, “is why the hell it even matters t’you. I’d really like t’think there was a reason other’n just wantin’ t’take revenge on us, but I don’t see anything else. An’ you,” he said loudly, pointing at Rude again, “apologize t’Vin or get th’hell out.”
Rude snorted and faced in the opposite direction, idly fiddling with the collar of his jacket. He had just registered somewhere in the back of his mind that the “woman” he had been so attracted to -and she had attracted him- was Vincent. A man. A man, no less, who could break him if he so wished, despite the difference in size. When Reno looked at him, he gave a small gesture resembling the one used to illustrate death- swiped a hand across his throat quickly and turned to face the door again.
Cid narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you be tellin’ him not t’say nothin’. ‘Ey, you, the other one. Dumbass. Tell us how th’hell y’found out, why y’care, apologize t’Vince, an’ get the hell out an’ don’t come back ‘fore I limit break on yer asses.”
Reno made an annoyed sound and pressed his lips together, glancing at Vincent.
Vincent leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, “None of that matters now, and I’ll tell you why.” He pinned Reno with his stare, “Everything is as it once was, so there is absolutely nothing to be gained. So here is what you are going to do, Turk. You are going to go back to your boss, and tell him that you found nothing. You will not come back here unless you are prepared to fully explain why or I just may need to have a chat with Mr. ShinRa myself, and absolutely nothing you do or say will stop me.”
Then he stood and walked over to Rude to stand directly in front of the big Turk, easily invading the man’s personal space, and it was all Rude could do not to back up just from the sheer presence of the gunman, “And you, Rude. I certainly hope that was not the way you go about courting all females that you find yourself attracted to.”
Rude cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
Cid stood as well, opening the door as soon as he got to it. “A’ right. Out. M’sick o’ lookin’ at yer ugly mugs.”
After a few more angry glances and -to Cid’s disbelief- a mumbled apology from Rude, the Turks left.
Cid shut the door firmly behind them and turned back to Vincent. “We ain’t lettin’ people in no more. They don’t do nothin’ but cause trouble.
As Cid shut the door behind the two Turks, Hodge, who had been hiding, came out to jump up onto Vincent’s lap after he returned to his chair, and as he sat back, moved to lay behind his neck. Vincent sighed and shut his eyes wearily as he leaned his head back against the purring cat. “And now you see why I was so reluctant to leave my coffin.” He was quiet a moment before he asked, “Cid?” He opened his eyes and grinned at the pilot. “What are the odds of expanding the coffin to fit two?”
Author: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Summary: So Cid has his Vincent and the world is safe, so all should go back to normal right? Wrong. The adventure just begins when these two find out that living with another person opens up a whole new world of trouble, laughs and really great sex!
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Timeline: Post DOC
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the FFVII characters - we're just borrowing them. Avatar art is by (the amazing) Spade.
Warnings: Two men having sex...and all things yaoi (just please take note of the rating *winks*)
Author's Note: PLEASE READ THIS!!! This is an RP, Cid is written by silence and yours truly has written Vincent and "Hodge". “Perfection” is not a plot-based “story”, it’s a series of one-shots rather like snapshots (or really strange home movies) of these two and their lives together. It’s an on-going little series within the series so updates will most likely be a bit more erratic than for Prelude To Perfection, and will never really end. If anyone has any suggestions for an “adventure” for these two to have then shout it out, but please realize that it may be a while before we can get to it as we have a lot of work left to do :D. I also want to say that Vincent has more self confidence in these stories, having finally put his past behind him, where it belongs…that and Cid gives him more to worry about ‘now’ so that he doesn’t have the luxury of ‘dwelling’ anymore.
A/N Addendum: In this fic, silence and I exercised our creative license and played a little with the origins of Shiva. We do not know the true story of this entity, so we created one for ourselves. Also, this one is pretty long, so we thank you in advance for your patience and we hope that you enjoy it!
For a chronological listing of the stories (the order in which these events happened in their lives) please click HERE
We would like to extend a belated but very heart-felt "Thank You!" to ani_mama ! She did it again! In a couple of wonderful pics she captured "Perfectly" the relationship that Hodge has with both Cid and Vincent! We continue to be indebted to you for all your support!! Thank you! *hugs*
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Silence. There was nothing but silence. Not the oppressive kind that pressed painfully upon the ears, but rather the peaceful kind that lulled one gently into sleep. It was neither too warm, nor too cold, and Vincent could not remember the last time his body had ever felt so comfortable. He laid still, eyes closed, his arms restfully by his sides and just barely managed to wonder where he was, and what had happened to put him there. But try as he might, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. Slowly, unthreateningly, he became aware of a presence by his side, but again he dismissed it for the rapturous bliss he was in. That is until he caught the scent, creeping up to and around him along with long-buried memories of a life past. Cigar smoke with a hint of dusky cologne.
He knew that smell, knew it as sure as he knew his own soul. “Father?”
“My son,” was the gentle reply, followed by a large, soft hand being placed upon his forehead. “So much pain, Vincent. It is not fair that life has asked so much of you. And demands more still.”
“What?” he whispered. He wanted to open his eyes, to look upon a face he had nearly forgotten, but still so beloved, but could not.
“You are not meant to,” was the cryptic reply, as though Grimoire could read his thoughts. “This was the only way for Chaos to fulfill his oath, you must understand.”
“What?” He slurred. Had been able to, the vagueness and stupidity of his replies to the man he respected the most in the world would have galled and embarrassed him, but he could not control his mind, nor it would seem, his tongue.
Grimoire chuckled, a rich and soothing sound. “Chaos learned, Vincent. Imagine, my son, teaching Gaia’s Squire a lesson in love and mercy.” There was a deep pride in the man’s deep voice. “Your mother and I miss you, son. We want you with us…” the large hand moved to stroke his hair and when Grimoire spoke again, his voice was sad. “…But that is not to be. Not yet.”
“I don’t understand.” Vincent said, struggling in vain to open his eyes.
“Shh,” Grimoire murmured, “You are not meant to. As much as we want you with us, there are others who need you…and love you. The planet has deemed you worthy, Vincent, and so your story continues. You must be strong, my son, for you shall know pain unlike any other. And unlike any other, only you can bear it. Look to your heart, Vincent.” He then felt warm, soft lips upon his forehead, “I am so very proud of the man you have become, my son, and I love you very, very much.”
Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but before any words could escape, the “floor” fell out from under him, and with sickening speed, he fell, the warmth and comfort -and his father- sliding away and out of his grasp. He fell for what seemed an eternity…
Cid had woken several times from the torturous sleep that visited him. The first time, upon discovering that his body was again his and not a woman’s, he had leapt up, ignoring the dizziness and the protests of his sleeping limbs and aching head, and gone to the bedroom to rejoice with Vincent. Only after opening the door and seeing the empty bed did he remember that Vincent was gone. His eyes fell on the mantle, left lying on the dresser, and suddenly the pain returned and the dizziness hit him full force. Scooping up the cloak, he had stumbled blindly back to the couch, where he drew the tattered cloth over himself like a blanket. It smelled like Vincent, and Cid, with tears in his eyes, had fallen asleep again just after a very puzzled Hodge had joined him on the couch again to examine the cloak. The next time, he found the cushion beneath him damp with tears he had shed in his sleep, and the next, he remembered seeing Vincent writhing in agony, hearing that heartrending scream and the fickle comfort the others offered him. He did not leave his place on the couch again, opting instead to roll over every time he woke, clutching the cloak to him, and pray for sleep.
Vincent awoke with a startled gasp and flailing limbs. Scrambling backward wildly he bumped into and pressed against what felt like a headboard to a…bed? Pushing at the hair that fallen into his face he looked around frantically. Where am I? As he continued to look around, his eyes lit upon a familiar painting of an airship on the far wall, a mirror over an equally familiar dresser, a pile of rumpled clothes on the floor and his own clothes hanging neatly in the closet. I’m home? But I thought… His hands flew to his chest and he groaned softly in relief; no breasts, and upon reflex they moved down to cup his groin. Thank the gods, he thought, slumping back against the headboard as the realization that all his correct “plumbing” was back where it should be. It was then that he realized the bed was made, and that the only evidence of occupation was the rumples he himself had made. “Cid?” he called softly, sliding off the bed, concern beginning to make him nervous. Walking out into the sitting room, he finally found the pilot, curled up under his cloak on the couch, one arm wrapped around Hodge, who to his credit was not complaining at all. Cid’s face was ruddy and tear-streaked, and he reeked of old alcohol. “Oh, Cid,” Vincent breathed and fell to his knees next to his exhausted lover. Did you miss me that much? Just how long was I gone? He reached out and gently stroked flattened and limp blond hair. Leaning in close to Cid’s ear he said softly, “Cid?” The only response was a violent twitch that caused him to fall back onto his ass, and some muttering. When the twitching didn’t stop but instead seemed only to grow in frequency, he re-situated himself next to Cid and rested his head on his arm; the other finding its way back to threading fingers through blond hair. A little smile came to his lips as he remembered what his mother used to do when dreams would torment him as a child. His voice rough and a little gravelly, he softly sang the old, old lullaby:
“Golden slumber kiss your eyes,
Smiles await you when you rise.
Sleep, pretty baby,
Do not cry,
And I'll sing you a lullaby.
Care you know not,
Therefore sleep,
While I o'er you watch do keep.
Sleep, pretty darling,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.”
Gradually the twitching slowed, then stilled and a tear found its way out of Cid’s closed eye, and it tore at Vincent’s heart. “Oh, Cid…I’m so sorry…” he said, gently wiping away the tear and continuing to watch the tormented face of his lover in sleep.
“Vin…Go ‘way.” He wanted to wake up, to see Vincent, but he knew what he would see: Vincent in pain on that cold floor, empty space where he should have been, the cloak, lacking its owner, abandoned on the dresser never to be used again. “Don’ wanna see. Don’ make me see it again,” he pleaded, voice slurred by both sleep and the alcohol he had consumed.
“Okay,” Vincent whispered, laying his head next to Cid’s. “Okay, Cid. Just sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”
“No!” Cid near-shouted, doing his best to roll away from Vincent while keeping his hold on Hodge. He ended up with the side of his face pushed firmly against the cushion. “Make it stop.”
Not liking the fact that he was getting rather squeezed and squished, not to mention Quiet and Gentle was here, made for a very upset cat and with a squall, Hodge began to violently struggle. Digging in his hind claws the furry blond cat finally wriggled out of Cid’s grasp and leapt off the couch to begin purring quite loudly, and winding himself around Vincent’s seated body. Vincent by contrast drew away from Cid when the pilot yelled at him and sat, quite startled, only petting Hodge out of sheer reflex.
“Damn cat,” Cid grumbled, groping for Hodge, having woken when claws had pierced his skin. Hodge wasn’t there, but he was close. And purring. “Vin?” He only purred like that for Vincent, but Vincent wasn’t here. Vincent was gone. “Gone,” he reminded himself aloud, keeping his eyes closed.
At this, Vincent snorted. “Hardly,” he said wryly, a little peeved at Cid’s reluctance to open his eyes, “And since when did you get so fond of my cat? I thought you two hated each other.” Then he said more gently, “Cid, open your eyes.”
“Jus’ lemme go back t’sleep, dammit,” Cid complained stubbornly, trying to keep the oncoming sob at bay. “It don’t hurt when’m sleepin’. ‘Least, I don’t feel it, anyhow.” The small shudder that ran through him made the cloak slink off him and to the floor. Annoyed, he cracked an eye open as he reached for it, and then opened the other, deciding he may as well recapture Hodge while he was awake and active. But there was a hand on Hodge’s back, and it wasn’t Cid’s. Brow wrinkled in suspicion, Cid tilted his head up, fully intending to give Tifa a piece of his mind (again) for trying to “help him through this.” His eyes widened as they took in Vincent’s face. Cid lost his grasp on the edge of the couch and pitched forward, barely catching himself only moments before colliding with Vincent. He shook his head, chest clenching. “M’dreamin’ again, huh? Dammit, Vin, if y’re gonna leave me, don’t tease me about it.”
On reflex, Vincent’s hand came out and steadied Cid’s forward momentum as the pilot caught himself. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, “I can assure you that you are most certainly not dreaming, Highwind.” He gave a small grin, then brought his other hand up to cup Cid’s stubbly cheek, “…I won’t leave you, Cid. Not again,” he whispered.
“You will. When I wake up.” He said this, but he no longer believed himself asleep. After regaining his balance and sliding himself onto the floor beside Vincent, he carefully reached out a hand and grasped Vincent’s shoulder lightly, rubbing over the uppermost part of the arm with a thoughtful look on his face. His eyes lit up. “Didja take me with ya? Is that what happened? Oh, dammit, I killed th’fuckin’ cat!? M’sorry, Vin!” he said, finally losing the battle with the tears and sobs as he realized that he had no idea what was going on.
“Oh, Cid,” Vincent choked and wrapped his arms around his distraught lover. “You didn’t kill the cat. I didn’t take you with me, rather I think you might have been the reason I came back.” Although truthfully he didn’t know how or why he had come back, but he wasn’t about to look a gift chocobo in the mouth. He squeezed Cid tightly and was further relieved to feel his old strength coursing through his body, and when he heard Cid wheeze, he eased back on his embrace with a muttered apology accompanied by a furious blush.
“Don’t let go,” Cid murmured, putting his arms around Vincent in return. “Not yet.” He held tightly for a while, then pulled back without letting go to lock eyes with Vincent. “It hurts so much, Vin.”
Vincent swallowed. “I know how much it hurt to walk away from you Cid, and I-I know how much it ripped me apart to see your face as I…” He shook his head furiously, sending his hair back into his face, but he left it in favor of holding onto Cid. He rested his forehead against Cid’s and murmured, “I can only imagine how hard it was for you. I have a new reason not to sleep now, because I will always see the pain on your face….”
“I woulda stayed like that f’rever. I think we all would have if it was only about us. I reckon you know that already, but…well, in case y’didn’t. An’ I- well, it’s over now, ain’t it?” He shook his head and moved it to rest on Vincent’s shoulder. “It’s all over.” One of his hands made its way down Vincent’s back and up it again, repeating the motion as he had so many times. “What hurt th’most was knowin’ it’d hurt ya more if y’came back. Don’t let me help it hurt, Vin. Keep me in line, ‘kay?” Cid gave a weak, tremulous attempt at a smile as he pulled back again to meet eyes in as much turmoil as his own. The hand not stroking Vincent’s back rose to cup a smooth cheek. “Wanna see if we c’n make it better?” he asked, wanting simply to strip them both and press their bodies together, affirming both their recently regained physical states and Vincent’s presence.
Vincent’s eyelids fluttered briefly and he swallowed hard, feeling the familiar tingling in his belly that was the very beginnings of arousal. “Is that what you want, Cid?” He leaned in and caught Cid’s lips with his own. “To make it stop?” He kissed the blond again, more forcefully this time, sliding his tongue into an eagerly opened mouth. “Oh, what delicious pain,” he moaned absently as he leaned more heavily into the pilot.
Cid corrected, “Not stop. If we make it stop, we ain’t learned nothin’.” What did he want, then? Cid didn’t know, not in the sense of the abstract. But now, right now, he wanted Vincent. “But I’m tired o’ hurtin’, Vin, an’ I’m tired o’ seein’ you hurtin’. Lemme make ya feel good th’best way I know how.”
“Then I can think of much better place to do it than here on the floor,” Vincent murmured and got to his feet, helping Cid to stand as well before leading them into the bedroom and to the now slightly rumpled bed.
Once they were both in the room and the door was firmly shut behind them, eliminating any chance of interruption by Hodge, who had long since learned not to howl and scratch at closed doors, Cid dropped to his knees again, wrapping his arms around Vincent’s legs. “Love ya so much,” he breathed against Vincent’s hip, moving one arm and lifting the shirt he wore to kiss the skin beneath it.
Breathing coming in quicker pants, the tingle Vincent had felt when he had first kissed Cid had tightened more acutely into a throb, and instinct had him widen his stance. His hand once again found its way to Cid’s hair and he said raggedly, “I love you more.” With a quick tug, he pulled the shirts he wore over his head and bared his chest. “What are you going to do about it?” he breathed, looking down at where Cid knelt in front of him.
“Y’do. I know ya do. I can’t ever hope t’feel that much, no matter how much I try. But I love ya with all I have, an’ that’s all I c’n give. I just gotta keep hopin’ it’s enough.” He smiled up at Vincent, slightly taken aback by the look on his face. “As fer what I’m gonna do about it…better get these off too.” Cid stood and pushed down the baggy pants that hung on Vincent’s hips. He licked his lips at the sight of his Vincent come back to him. After removing his own clothing, Cid encouraged Vincent to lie on his back on the bed, and Cid crawled up to meet him. “How patient c’n ya be t’night, Vin?” he asked, grinning.
Vincent stretched, delighting in the feel of the duvet under his back and his lover on and around him. He brought an arm up to rest behind his head. “Well,” he purred, “that would depend upon you, Cid.”
Watching the arch of Vincent’s arm as he stretched it and the angle it made when he laid his head on it, Cid said, “Be still for me, then,” and, starting at the bent elbow he had watched, used his mouth and hands to shower attention upon Vincent’s body. His hands moved over Vincent’s chest and belly as he kissed and nuzzled his way from elbow to armpit. They moved downwards as his mouth did, skimming smooth, angled hips as Cid suckled briefly at one nipple, looking up at Vincent as he switched to the other, adding teeth this time to watch the reaction.
Vincent shut his eyes to better focus upon the feel of Cid’s lips upon his flesh, the work-roughened hands as they explored his naked body. He gave a series of gasps as Cid kissed down to one nipple then a small cry as he felt teeth upon the other. His body was waking up in a fire of sensation as he raised his knees to create a cradle for Cid’s hips. His cock was hard and his cheeks were hot, flushed from desire and the craving for more. He couldn’t stop the shiver as he felt Cid’s hand up high on his inner thigh, and he parted his legs a bit further.
Made impatient by Vincent’s shifting beneath him and the sounds that reached his ears, Cid braced himself with his hands and kissed a quick line from where his mouth was to Vincent’s lower abdomen. Nuzzling both the soft flesh there and the hard, breathing deeply before taking first the head of Vincent’s cock into his mouth and then as much as he could reach, Cid made sure to slick the organ as well as he could; it was all that would be present later. Vincent gasped again, and Cid pulled away, albeit reluctantly. He met Vincent’s eyes as he raised himself up onto his knees and positioned himself appropriately.
Tongue-tied and very nearly disbelieving, all Vincent could do was stare at Cid. But very quickly his body caught up and on his next exhale he groaned, “Yes.” Then his brain caught up. “No!” He wrapped his hands around Cid’s hips, stopping his lover. He shook his head. “I won’t hurt you, not like that…where’s the lubricant…” He turned his head and began to reach for the nightstand.
“Dammit, Vin, I need this. You oughta understand that. Need t’feel ya like this. Let me have what I need.” Cid tugged at Vincent’s hands. They threatened to knock him off balance, and that would lead to an end Cid was sure neither of them desired.
Vincent rolled back and looked long and deep into Cid’s tired, needy eyes. He knew that look, understood it better than anyone else on the planet. Swallowing, he placed one hand on Cid’s hip, and the other around his erection to hold himself in position.
Cid nodded and started to sink down, trying to hold back any signs of what went far beyond discomfort into real pain. His breath came in harsh pants after a while, and it took him longer than he would have liked to fully sheathe Vincent within him. Even then, the pain was still there. Bearable, necessary -in Vincent’s words, delicious- pain that Cid could not remember ever craving before. When his body had adjusted well enough, he began to move in slow, shallow motions, looking to Vincent for approval and guidance.
Gritting his teeth against the rough, clenching pleasure/pain, Vincent gripped Cid’s hips and began to thrust up, meeting Cid’s downward fall with his own upward push. He couldn’t look at the pain on Cid’s face, but he knew what he had to do to erase it. Dragging forward on Cid’s hips, he tilted the pilot’s body until just the right angle… With a stiff jerk and harsh cry, Cid’s eyes widened, then rolled back as each small thrust petted that sweet spot deep within the man’s body. With a groan, Vincent’s head lolled back and he began to thrust harder and faster, ricocheting his hips off Cid’s buttocks to the backdrop of smacking skin and ragged breathing.
Cid could do nothing but keep moving at the pace and angle Vincent had found for them. This was rougher, rawer than most of the times they had been together in the past, and Cid knew it would be a long, long time before he wanted a repeat. Keeping himself upright was trouble enough; he was glad Vincent had elected to do something other than lie there and enjoy it. He reached for himself with one hand and made himself look to Vincent’s face. “Talk to me, Vin.”
“What can I say that- ah!” He gasped as muscles twitched and jerked. Panting, his head rolled to the side, eyes sliding shut, “You feel…so good…ngh!” As Cid’s body sank back down upon his erection, he held the pilot in place and rolled his hips. He paused a moment to let them both catch their breaths, and when he cracked his lids again, a slow grin began to form, “Do you like this position, Highwind?” He reached his hands around Cid’s waist to knead parted buttocks. He gave another roll of his hips, grin growing even wider, and more predatory as Cid groaned and let his head fall back. Easily, Vincent sat up, and began to kiss and nip at Cid’s bared throat. “I love the way you taste, Chief,” he growled, “all salty and sharp.” He bit down hard on Cid’s neck, then pulled back to breathe raggedly against Cid’s neck. “Just like your mouth.” He then pulled Cid’s head back up to capture said mouth in a devouring kiss.
A small sound of surprise issued from Cid’s throat at first, but then he relaxed into the kiss, intense as it was, more than happy to let Vincent lead fully and completely. When they broke apart, he gave a long, happy sigh. He had been waiting to have Vincent’s hands on his ass since they had kissed in the living room, and he wiggled against them now, wanting the touch to be firmer, more solid than this kneading. “Mm…yeah, I like it. Like bein’ able t’see ya, touch ya. Like yer cock in me.” He smiled against Vincent’s neck, where his mouth had ended up when he had shifted to wrap his arms around Vincent’s shoulders and lean heavily against him. “Like that a lot,” he emphasized, the words muffled. “But what I like even better,” he said, pulling back a little, “is knowin’ we c’n stay in bed all day just lovin’ each other. An’ that’s just what we’re gonna do, ain’t it?” He brought his forehead to Vincent’s again and held his eyes. “Fer now…show me how y’want me, how much y’want me.”
With a growl, Vincent rolled them over, hooking an arm under one of Cid’s knees as they moved and catching the other as Cid settled onto his back neatly - and very nearly folded in half. “I like you like this,” he rumbled into Cid’s neck where he nipped and licked the soft skin there. “On your back with your legs in the air,” he groaned, low and deep as he rolled his hips yet again, making Cid gasp and squirm. “Now what shall I do, Chief?” he asked, raising his head to look down into Cid’s flushed face, easily as flushed as his own. He narrowed his eyes and waited for Cid’s answer while continuing the rolling, circling motion, thoroughly enjoying Cid’s desirous expression and fluttering eyelids.
Cid let out a harsh gust of breath and tightened his arms where they held onto Vincent, his hips jerking toward Vincent’s in response. “Too good,” he panted. “Gods…” What else could he ask for? Vincent inside him, all around him- he had it all. Finally, “Kiss me,” he said simply, looking back up at Vincent expectantly. “An’ make it good,” he added cheekily, though he had to grit his teeth against the pleasure to do it.
“My pleasure,” Vincent purred, and caught Cid’s lips again, beginning first chastely, teasing along Cid’s upper lip, then lower before finally stroking his tongue along where they met as he began to thrust deep and hard with his hips. When Cid parted his lips, Vincent slanted his own against the pilot’s and delved deeply with his tongue. He caught the gasps that came from Cid’s throat with his mouth and worked his jaw, pressing more firmly as their tongues slid and stroked over each other’s. Finally they separated, both gasping for breath. “How was…that?” Vincent panted, even as he continued to move his hips against Cid’s buttocks.
Cid just made a small sound of defeat and let his head fall back. One hand slid off Vincent’s shoulder; he moved it to cover his mouth to stifle the next sounds that threatened to leave his throat. Eyes shut tight and teeth clamped shut, he tried to force his mind away from realizing that he had very nearly lost this for good. After swallowing, he removed his hand and touched Vincent’s face with it, squeezing with his legs as well as he could to urge Vincent on while moving his body in time with the other’s. “I need you first,” he choked, clenching weakly around Vincent. “Need t’feel ya.” The other hand, too, moved to cup the other side of Vincent’s face. Face flushed, eyes wide and wild, he demanded, “Come for me, Vin,” in a low groan.
Vincent was both startled and entranced by Cid’s eyes, and he could no more look away than he could control his own body as the pleasure overwhelmed him. With a gasp and a held breath, he clenched his teeth and released into Cid, feeling something besides his essence leave his body. It was something even more primitive, more spiritual than physical and it left him feeling drained…and owned. And it felt right, somehow. He blinked slowly as a soft vibration began in his chest, one he hadn’t felt or heard in a very long time; a sound that only Cid could initiate in him. He shifted in Cid’s embrace until the pilot’s legs slid from his arms, and he could pull out and just settle down onto his lover’s body. Bracing on his elbows and forearms, he brought his hand up to brush lightly across Cid’s face. “My pilot,” he breathed, “my ornery, crude, rough-handed, belligerent…loving, pilot. Never have I been so glad to come home.”
“Yes,” Cid breathed as his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Vincent’s release fill him. “Shit, yes.” When Vincent finished speaking and settling onto him, Cid lifted his arms to loop them around Vincent’s shoulders again. He smiled at the purring, both comforted by it and pleased with himself for inspiring it. His cheek rested against Vincent’s now as they lay together, Vincent still purring and Cid just holding him and breathing. This was all he needed.
When they finally settled down to rest, Vincent lay half on his side and half on his back with Cid curled up on and around him, the blond-haired head cradled on his shoulder and the man’s face buried in his neck. He just slowly and gently stroked Cid’s back in lazy, comforting circles until Cid’s breathing eased off into sleep, the pilot’s arms tightening about him. It was rather uncomfortable, but there was no way he was going to resituate them, not with Cid resting so peacefully. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, for once not even remotely tired after sex. He tried desperately to remember what had happened after Chaos had taken his life, but could only come up with the dim memory of red eyes. He frowned. The only other person he knew of who had red eyes besides himself was his father; could it have been Grimoire? But try as he might he just couldn’t come up with anything other than that his coming back was for a reason, and he didn’t think it was Cid, not entirely. That realization chilled his blood and filled him with fear, causing him to tighten his arms about his lover. Whatever it was that the future and fate held in store for him, as long as he had Cid, he could face it…face it and conquer it. He kissed the crown of Cid’s head and murmured a stanza of an old poem that he remember from his studies in literature when he was at the Academy:
“When fate passes nigh
to break us upon her rocky shores,
I look to my heart and see only you;
and with ne’er a regret nor sorrow, so shall I pass unto the dawn.”
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Cid had refused to let Vincent out of bed until nearly 10 A.M., and he could see it was driving him a little crazy. “Guess I’ll go get breakfast started, then. I’ll bring it to ya if y’wanna stay here,” he teased, a giant grin forming on his face at the look Vincent started to give him. Vincent joined him in the kitchen, fully dressed, as he was finishing up the eggs. “Are they right?” he asked nervously.
Vincent cocked his head and peered at the food that Cid held out to him. He hoped that Cid’s timidity would not last very long, as he missed his brash, mouthy, and hardheaded pilot. “They look great, actually,” he confirmed, and took a seat at their table, not wanting to smother or coddle the man and encourage his behavior, even as he understood all too well where Cid’s fear came from.
“Do they? Good, m’glad.” He heaped food onto Vincent’s plate and placed the remainder onto his own. He sat across from Vincent and spent a good deal of time staring at him in what was almost awe before beginning to eat. “I know y’didn’t have a choice about comin’ back, but you bein’ you, y’coulda come back an’ slipped outta here an’ let us all go on believin’ y’were gone. Y’coulda disappeared and wouldn’t nobody’ve ever found ya. Guess what I mean by that is…thank ya fer comin’ back t’me. Thank ya so much.”
“Well I didn’t have much choice in that matter, seeing as I was plopped right smack dab in the middle of our bed,” Vincent muttered, picking at his eggs before finally taking a bite, nodding in approval of both taste and texture. When he looked up and saw Cid’s heartbroken expression, his own softened. “If coming back meant that I could not return to you then I would prefer to stay dead, Cid.” He studied Cid’s dubious expression a while before continuing, “I did not jest when I said that you mean everything to me, and that my heart is yours. My home is here, with you. This is where I belong.”
“That’s right,” Cid agreed firmly, “and don’t you ferget it.” They finished their meal in silence, Cid occasionally sneaking glances at Vincent. He had showered earlier that morning -Vincent, with Hodge curled on his chest, had still been asleep- and was very glad for that. Nothing was more disgusting to him than the feeling of not being bathed, though he did frequently go for more than a day without a shower. Four was too much. Far too much. After finishing the dishes with Vincent’s help, Cid led the way into the living room and sat in Vincent’s chair, looking hopefully at Vincent as he spread his arms.
Grinning, Vincent shook his head, now how could he refuse that face? Gently he settled on Cid’s lap and leaned into the pilot’s chest, nuzzling the man’s neck. “And what, exactly, would be the plan for today?”
Cid groaned, “M’sposed’a have a plan? Well…guess we could check up with ever’body else an’…no, not yet. Wanna keep ya t’m’self another day, an’ then we’ll check on them. Tifa’s all right, I know. She came up t’see me once, make sure I was eatin’ an’ all. He grinned sheepishly, eyes on the floor. “I wasn’t. But she sorted me out good, lemme tell ya.” It felt so good to have his arms around Vincent…but he really hated this chair. “So I guess th’plan fer t’day is…hell, d’we really hafta do anything but this?”
Vincent pulled back from where he had been nibbling on Cid’s neck to frown. “That is not what I wanted to hear.” He framed Cid’s face with his hands. “You take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here, doesn’t mean you just give up.” He grew earnest. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much, but it really did. “You promise me, Cid Highwind, you will take care of yourself.” He fought back the irrational spike of fear. “Please.”
“I will, Vin. I would have. I just needed…needed some time. An’ I would be ashamed o’ m’self, when I woke up, an’ tell m’self how upset y’d be t’see me that way. It wasn’t doin’ much, but I woulda snapped out of it eventually.” But I don’t know when. He took Vincent’s hands in his and laced their fingers together. “There’s no reason fer me t’live if you ain’t here. But if you want me to, I will.”
Vincent searched Cid’s face for a moment before nodding and, slumping down, settled more comfortably on Cid’s lap. “I’m sorry…I-I do not know why that is so important to me.” He examined Cid’s strong, capable hand; work-calloused palm, thick, blunt fingers and compared them, not for the first time with his own delicate, long-fingered ones. He didn’t have the hands of a warrior; he had the hands of an artist, and he thought ironically, It’s funny that the warrior is the artist, and that who should have been the artist is the warrior? Both fight, but while one chooses to create, the other chooses to destroy.
There was a tightness in his chest, “But the thought of you not in this world…I don’t know, frightens me? Saddens me? I am not sure. Perhaps it is just simply the fact that if I cannot be here to care for you, I need to know that you can do so on your own, and perhaps-perhaps find someone who could care for you in my place.” With a sigh, he brought Cid’s hand up against his chest, leaning his head against the pilot’s shoulder, he voiced what he felt with absolute and frightening conviction, “Let us not have to test that again, shall we? Because I cannot exist…in any way, shape or form…without you.” It was unusual, abnormal for someone to feel so strongly towards another, but Vincent could do nothing to explain why he felt as he did towards Cid. Trapped in the past and forced to live in the future, Cid was his bridge in between the two…and his reason, now, to exist.
“No, there ain’t nobody else fer me, honey. Never was.” That was all he said before putting one arm around Vincent again and holding him tightly. The other hand held Vincent’s head to his shoulder, and the fingers began running through the thick hair on instinct. He wouldn’t listen if I said it’s th’same way fer me. An’ I feel like it is, but…he feels so much more’n I do. So I guess it ain’t. Cid immediately stopped that train of thought; he would not allow anyone, even himself, to convince him that his love for Vincent was not absolute. Cid smiled. “This chair just ain’t big enough for both of us, is it?” he asked, shifting to keep Vincent from sliding off him onto the floor. “Gotta clean that couch…”
Eyes drooping under the hypnotic stroking of his hair, Vincent mumbled, “How would you suggest we…” he inhaled deeply and let it back out as he sighed, “…do that?” Relaxing completely into Cid and the man’s petting, it did not please him one bit to hear the firm, brisk knock on the door. “Who could that be?” He groaned, “Maybe they’ll go away if we don’t answer it.” But the knocking kept coming until he finally grumbled, “Cid would you, would you mind terribly getting that? I don’t think I’m in a state where I could speak with anyone civilly at the moment.”
“Yeah, an’ nobody expects me t’speak civilly anyhow, so it don’t matter, right?” Cid snorted, equally unhappy with whoever it was on the other side of the door. Reluctantly, he slid from beneath Vincent, giving the gunman his chair back, and leaned over to press a lingering kiss to his forehead before finally answering the door. He groaned inwardly when he recognized their visitors. Goddamn Turks… His eyes found Rude and narrowed as he remembered the all-too-friendly manner he’d shown with Vincent a few days ago. “Th’hell d’ya want?” he asked in a bored tone, wondering how best to both make them go away and avoid trouble.
“Where were you last time we dropped by, eh?” Reno asked by way of replying.
“We were out. Th’girls said y’d been here, but we figured y’d come back if it was important.”
“And here we are. Where are they?”
“Went back home. Was real nice t’see Eth again, lemme tell ya. Sweet girl, huh?”
Rude spoke next, asking, “And where might ‘home’ be?”
“Not thinkin’ ‘bout harrassin’ our girls some more, huh? Tori said y’d been a little too happy t’see ‘er.”
“She’s real easy on the eyes, I gotta say,” Reno commented, closing his eyes as if trying to better recall the memory of her.
“Well, she ain’t nothin’ fer your eyes t’be lookin’ at,” Cid snapped, reflexively trying to close the door. His eyes widened when Reno pulled a smirk on him.
“Gotcha,” he said smugly. “Now are you gonna let us in and introduce us properly or what?”
Sighing in resignation, Cid opened the door to let their “guests” inside, looking apologetically at Vincent as he took his own chair.
Vincent groaned when he saw who marched into their living room as if they, too, lived there. Reno flopped down on the couch while Rude took up a position just to the left of the couch, “What do you two want?”
“Answers.” Reno said simply, before turning his head and sniffing the armrest of the couch before sitting back up. “Ya think ya fooled us, but there wasn’t any Ethel or Victoria was there, eh?”
Vincent shrugged and rolled his eyes, saying sarcastically, “That’s right. Wow, you two are sharp, I’m impressed. So Cid and I just woke up one day as women and that just happened to be the day that you decided to come by and see us, is that it then?”
Both Reno and Rude scowled, but neither said anything.
Cid snickered. “Lookit the big guy, Vin, how disappointed ‘e is.”
Rude turned to Cid, who grinned brilliantly back at him.
“Well, what’s th’story, then? We know nothin’ happened t’ya’ll’s lot. How th’hell’d y’know t’come check up on us?”
“We don’t have to tell you anything,” Rude said simply, still looking at Cid, who assumed he was glaring behind the glasses.
Cid raised an eyebrow. “’Scuse me? When y’re feelin’ up my man, specially knowin’ it’s him, you owe us a hell of a lot more’n an explanation.”
Reno looked at Vincent after rolling his eyes at the exchange between the two larger men. “Well, Valentine, shall we let the children play while we have an intelligent discussion?”
Vincent said nothing, just stared unblinkingly at Reno until the redhead began to fidget. Finally he said darkly, “You knew?”
Reno smirked, “Of course we knew! C’mon Valentine, a whole lotta coincidences there: the eyes, the glove, the fact that Victoria and Ethel came together, I mean seriously! Did’ju really think we were that stupid?”
Vincent steepled his fingers in front of his nose and raised an eyebrow. “Not entirely. Regardless of however stupid you may be, you are perceptive and what you do with that information is what ultimately determines your intelligence. Quite frankly I am surprised that you are a Turk, seeing as you have the distinct inability to control yourself. Now cut to the chase or leave here. I am not in the mood to play games.”
“What I wanna know,” Cid interjected, having abandoned Rude to sit at the hypothetical big kids’ table, “is why the hell it even matters t’you. I’d really like t’think there was a reason other’n just wantin’ t’take revenge on us, but I don’t see anything else. An’ you,” he said loudly, pointing at Rude again, “apologize t’Vin or get th’hell out.”
Rude snorted and faced in the opposite direction, idly fiddling with the collar of his jacket. He had just registered somewhere in the back of his mind that the “woman” he had been so attracted to -and she had attracted him- was Vincent. A man. A man, no less, who could break him if he so wished, despite the difference in size. When Reno looked at him, he gave a small gesture resembling the one used to illustrate death- swiped a hand across his throat quickly and turned to face the door again.
Cid narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you be tellin’ him not t’say nothin’. ‘Ey, you, the other one. Dumbass. Tell us how th’hell y’found out, why y’care, apologize t’Vince, an’ get the hell out an’ don’t come back ‘fore I limit break on yer asses.”
Reno made an annoyed sound and pressed his lips together, glancing at Vincent.
Vincent leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, “None of that matters now, and I’ll tell you why.” He pinned Reno with his stare, “Everything is as it once was, so there is absolutely nothing to be gained. So here is what you are going to do, Turk. You are going to go back to your boss, and tell him that you found nothing. You will not come back here unless you are prepared to fully explain why or I just may need to have a chat with Mr. ShinRa myself, and absolutely nothing you do or say will stop me.”
Then he stood and walked over to Rude to stand directly in front of the big Turk, easily invading the man’s personal space, and it was all Rude could do not to back up just from the sheer presence of the gunman, “And you, Rude. I certainly hope that was not the way you go about courting all females that you find yourself attracted to.”
Rude cleared his throat and averted his eyes.
Cid stood as well, opening the door as soon as he got to it. “A’ right. Out. M’sick o’ lookin’ at yer ugly mugs.”
After a few more angry glances and -to Cid’s disbelief- a mumbled apology from Rude, the Turks left.
Cid shut the door firmly behind them and turned back to Vincent. “We ain’t lettin’ people in no more. They don’t do nothin’ but cause trouble.
As Cid shut the door behind the two Turks, Hodge, who had been hiding, came out to jump up onto Vincent’s lap after he returned to his chair, and as he sat back, moved to lay behind his neck. Vincent sighed and shut his eyes wearily as he leaned his head back against the purring cat. “And now you see why I was so reluctant to leave my coffin.” He was quiet a moment before he asked, “Cid?” He opened his eyes and grinned at the pilot. “What are the odds of expanding the coffin to fit two?”