Prelude To Perfection - Part VI (cont'd)

[calvi_sama]

Title: Prelude To Perfection (Part VI)
Author: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Summary: What do you do when the one you want the most in the world is right in front of you, but doesn't yet share that desire?  The persistence and patience of one man will be sorely tried; will Cid achieve his heart's desire?  Will Vincent ever be free?
Rating: NC-17 (finally! XD)
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Timeline: FFVII canon - on their way to intercept Meteor, but with a slightly more relaxed schedule to account for Jenova taking sightseeing tours. XD
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: Yaoi, verily and truely.  You don't like two men having sex, then -duh- don't read it! *laughs*

Part VI (cont'd)

Cid looked at Vincent, eyebrow raised skeptically. “Naw, that won’t do. Not at all. Gotta get that towel off, first thing.” He watched hungrily as Vincent slipped off the towel. His legs were gorgeous- long and muscled and enough to make Cid double-check his mouth to make sure it was closed. “Okay, now scoot back a little, an’ sit…fer now, sit like you always do.” He took in that view for a moment, then began mentally rearranging limbs until something appealed to him. “Okay, got it. Leave yer right knee there an’ yer right arm just kinda…hangin’ out. Put yer left leg back down, like y’re tryin’a decide whether you wanna get up or not. And hold out yer left arm, like there’s somebody you want standin’ just outta reach. Would you, uh, would you feel better with the glove or somethin’ on? I don’t want ya t’be uncomfortable.”

The slightly cooler air tickled across Vincent’s skin and he felt goosebumps rise up causing him to shiver involuntarily. He felt dreadfully exposed, facing Cid like this, as naked as the day he was born. He felt as though the man could see right into what was left of his soul. He swallowed and said, “Neither the glove nor the gauntlet is who I am, Cid. If you wish to paint me, I wouldn’t hide behind them, unless you wished me to wear them.” He fell silent and watched Cid begin to work. As though he couldn’t help it he said, “You know, the only other person to see me like this was Hojo…” he winced, and shut his mouth, immediately regretting having said that, and once again unconsciously rubbing the scar just below his sternum, “I am sorry, that name has no place here,” he whispered.

While preparing his paint and brushes, Cid answered, “Good. I’d hoped you wouldn’t wanna hide. ‘Cause damn, Vince, just as you are, y’re…shit, I don’t even know if there’s a word for it. But I know I wouldn’t have ya any other way, no matter who you used to be. An’ don’t apologize,” he scolded, looking steadily at Vincent. “I know ya know I ain’t him, so I ain’t even gonna go into it. F’talkin’ makes you less nervous or whatever, you go right ahead. An’ just fer conversation’s sake, the only other person I ever let watch me work was Millie. You’re the only one ever come close to meanin’ as much to me as she did.” Everything covered (so to speak), Cid lapsed into silence and began painting. He never sketched first; he felt that imperfections and little preparation made a piece more honest, therefore more valuable. Beginning with the lightest colors, the whites and greys, he began capturing the basic lines and shapes, knowing that the majority of the detail could be added after Vincent was allowed to move. Once he got to Vincent’s body, he stopped for a moment and just stared. He could so easily imagine himself as the one being offered that hand, so easily see himself take it. He wanted to speak; speaking would have distracted his body from the rather intense reaction it was having at the sight of Vincent being so exposed. Sitting cross-legged on a stool, he reflected, was not a wise choice. He would likely be here for at least two and a half hours, unable to move for fear of knocking against the easel. He had worked while aroused before, but not to this degree and not for such an extended period of time. Half an hour later, Vincent’s shape was completed, the palest shade of flesh color he could mix barely standing out against the blue-grey bedspread and the empty gray wall. So pretty. He looks nice here, sittin’ there waitin’ for me. The rug next to the bed was a rich beige, and Vincent’s toes (and they were hairy, no matter what he claimed) complemented it well. He had, either consciously or unconsciously, allowed some of the threads to sift between the digits, and Cid made sure to include that, as it struck some sort of chord inside him. Something like homesickness, but fainter in definition and more intense in feeling. Nostalgia. But that don’t really make sense here. Internally, he was debating how best to describe the gunslinger in that moment. Something between adorable and sexy, he concluded, but once again there was no perfect word. Who gives a fuck about words, anyway? Another twenty minutes, and the paint-and-canvas Vincent had fingernails, toenails and a face. Next Cid worked to define the body, careful not to miss a single line, saving the ruined arm for last because it’s coloring was more complex. Hojo, you bastard... He actually found himself a bit discomfited at the thought of painting the uppermost parts of Vincent’s thighs and what came between them, but he managed. “You’re so good, Vin, bein’ still for me,” he said, talking more to the painting than the real Vincent. The outstretched fingers were starting to tremble, so he increased his pace a bit, wincing at having taken so long already. He finished with the scars, both on his chest and on his arm, and stopped again to look. Sorry, honey. I just could look atcha like this for hours… After capturing the details in the background directly affected by the presence of a body on the bed, such as certain wrinkles in the sheets and shadows, he finished for the time being with delicate, sweeping strokes of black. While the raven hair was drying, he took a smaller brush and added pupil, eyelashes, and eyebrows (one of them raised slightly), and flecks of light against the black of the hair and eyes. Cid looked back and forth between his inspiration and his creation. In his eyes, the painting was the most beautiful work he’d ever done, but it could not compare to the man still sitting and waiting. “A’ right, honey. You’re all done.”

As Cid began to become engrossed in his work, Vincent settled into his pose and watched the emotions play across the rugged but expressive face. There is something oddly endearing about the man, Vincent thought. He suspected it was the child-like excitement Cid exhibited when he was truly passionate about something. Vincent took a moment to examine the eccentric creature named Cid Highwind. There was the fighter - coarse and crude and utterly ruthless in battle. He was cool, nonchalant and appeared to care about things only as much as he had to. That was whom everyone else saw. Then there was the man - hesitant, very nearly shy to the point of being afraid of rejection. He was big-hearted, compassionate, affectionate, and almost thoughtful. That was whom he saw. And both of them have deplorable manners, hideous speaking skills, atrocious penmanship and a clear lack of housekeeping ability, Vincent thought. If he had been in front of a mirror, he would have been horrified to see the grossly uncharacteristic, dreamy little smile he had on his face. It was around that moment that Vincent finally realized exactly what it was about Cid that had set him off balance. First and foremost, Cid was his friend. He enjoyed the man’s company and was actually beginning to crave it. Cid treated him like he was normal, never judged him because of who he was or what was done to him, but most importantly, Cid respected him and didn’t smother him in pity. He trusted Cid enough to be himself, to let his guard down because the pilot would never willingly betray that trust. Second, Cid was his partner. They had fought side-by-side, defended each other and if it came down to it, Vincent trusted Cid with his life. And he had that trust returned. He didn’t think Cid really understood just what a precious gift someone’s trust really was. And lastly, Vincent’s body called out to Cid’s in desire. He had been held in the man’s arms, had held in return, and it had felt right. He had felt Cid’s hands on him and he had yearned for more. He had kissed Cid’s lips and he had never experienced a headier thing - the caress of lips first gentle, tender then deepening into a dominant, aggressive possession; a promise of more carnal pleasures. Vincent felt his belly clench as need and desire slammed into him and he could feel himself becoming hard, but was powerless to stop it as images and sensations continued to saturate his mind. He didn’t care. The world could very well be destroyed tomorrow, so his insecurities ceased to matter. What did matter, though, was the fact that he wanted Cid to know how he felt. He needed Cid to know. Vincent’s arm slowly lowered until it rested on the bed by his thigh, his vermilion gaze fixed on the blond. He swallowed and said what was in his heart, “I love you, Cid.” Silence met him, enfolded him in its arms and made him suddenly unsure. The pilot had frozen in place, not looking at him and for a moment, Vincent was afraid he had gone too far and finally offended the man. But he was determined to finish it. “Regardless of how you may feel about me, I wanted you to know that. Cloud said that we were, ultimately, fighting for ourselves, and once upon a time that might have been true. But that has changed for me. Now, I’m fighting for you, to save this world for you, so you can have your airships and fly wherever your heart desires to go. I do not know when I began to feel these things,” Vincent placed his hand over his heart, “when my heart began to beat again, but-but you, Cid, you woke it up. You showed me I could still laugh, that I could care about something other than vengeance. You never gave up on me, even when I tried to push you away. And if I am to be fated to annihilation, your face is the last thing I want to see before I cease to exist.” Vincent’s face was red, but he bravely held his chin raised and waited for Cid’s gentle dismissal.

Cid nearly dropped his brush. Vincent really hadn’t noticed by now? And people had always told Cid that subtlety was not his strong point…soon he realized that the longer he sat there thinking, the redder Vincent’s face became. He shook his head, a smile on his lips. Slowly he stood, careful of the easel, and walked to sit beside Vincent. “See that? You’re stronger’n I ever could be. Came right out an’ said what I thought you didn’t wanna hear.” He was beginning to ramble, he noticed, and knew that he had to put a stop to that immediately. “Love you too, honey,” he said, and reached for the shocked face.

The brush of Cid’s lips was soft and gentle, an embrace in its own right. Vincent returned the kiss by reflex, more confused than anything else, and when Cid pulled back he said, sounding a little bewildered, “Just like that? You’re not disgusted by me,” he held up his mangled hand, “and all that I am, what I represent?” That was too quick; I don’t understand, Vincent thought. “I-I thought you were just saying those things…” he trailed off, unable to finish. That cannot be all.

Cid chuckled. “What, you think I just decided it right now just ‘cause you said it? No fuckin’ way. I’ve felt it fer weeks, just…thought ya didn’t want no part in it. An’ I could never be disgusted by you.” He placed a hand on Vincent’s chest. “Not any part of ya.” He seemed to register quite suddenly the fact that Vincent was aroused, and his eyes lingered there before returning to meet the red ones, the look in the blue more intense than a moment before. “You want me,” he stated, voice growing rough. What the hell does somebody like him want with an old fool like me?

The look in those eyes had turned them nearly storm cloud gray, and Vincent shivered. No more thinking, no more rationalizing, no more excuses. He leaned forward and captured Cid’s lips again, coaxing the man’s mouth open by licking and sucking along the full lower lip. He pulled back just enough to say, “Yes, Cid, for all your habits, curses, and potentially fatal attempts at cooking, I want you. Now,” he barely brushed Cid’s lips with his own, teasingly, suggestively, “if you could have anything…what would it be?”

“Can I ask for everything? No, that’s like havin’ three wishes an’ usin’ each one o’ them fer three more, ain’t it? An’ I only get one? That’s all right. I only need one, Vin.” Cid grinned and pulled his shirt over his head, taking his goggles with it, before pinning Vincent with strong arms and a lazy stare. “I want you to stay with me after this. Will you do that? An’ in the meantime, I want these legs wrapped around me.” He pulled back and caressed them appreciatively, watching the way his touch made them quiver. “Or does that count as two?”

“I’m not counting,” Vincent gasped, shivering in anticipation of Cid’s hands on more of his body. He spread his legs wider, raising his knees in silent invitation as he brought his left arm back behind his head. He lifted his right hand and immediately Cid laced his fingers with Vincent’s own. “I believe I may be persuaded to stay around,” he said, smiling softly, “I have nowhere else to go that wouldn’t cause the rest of me to die, and I’d much rather live…now.” Vincent tugged on Cid’s hand, bringing the pilot back down onto his body. Arm still behind his head, Vincent released Cid’s hand in favor of the man’s cheek and jaw, steadying the pilot’s head as he kissed him again, deep and thorough. When they separated, Vincent finally moved his left hand and placed it on the other side of Cid’s face. “Put your hands on me, Cid. Would you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He kissed Vincent again, because he liked the way it felt to finally be able to do it without the fear of being pushed away. Once he was satisfied with that, he rolled off Vincent and slid his hands slowly down the slim body, never breaking eye contact. Just as he reached his hips, Cid pulled away and reached for himself instead, finally freeing himself of his pants, which were beginning to seem less and less necessary. He kicked them down to his ankles, but when they proved too stubborn to be removed entirely, he sighed and stood to remove them before settling atop Vincent again, apologizing and promising he wouldn’t have to wait anymore. He pressed their bodies together, closing his eyes as Vincent’s arms came around him.

He was on fire. Need fought with desire warred with lust and all bowed down to what Vincent now realized was love. He very nearly whimpered when Cid stood to remove the remainder of his clothing, his skin tingling and burning, needing that skin-to-skin contact. When the larger man laid his body back down upon his, he moaned and arched into the contact. He wrapped his arms around Cid, reveling in the warmth of the man’s body, marveling at the softness of the tawny skin and delighting in the feel of the hard, defined muscles that made up this warrior. It had been so very long since Vincent had felt these desires, these sensations, but his body remembered…oh, how it remembered! He gasped and writhed when he felt Cid’s erection rub against his own in between their pressed and thrusting bodies, and suddenly he knew with almost shocking clarity what he wanted. He brought his lips next to Cid’s ear and in a choked voice said, “Join with me Cid, I need to feel you inside me.”

Cid was pretty sure he couldn’t argue with that if he wanted to. “You’re sure?” he tried to ask, but Vincent shot him a look that made his answer clearer than words could have. Cid let his head fall on Vincent’s shoulder with a sigh. He would have to move again, as the bedside table was rather far away. “I know I promised, but hang on, honey, all right?” Within a few seconds, he had found what they needed and returned to Vincent, so impatient that he was slicking his fingers on the way back. He knelt between Vincent’s knees and reached for him, not in the least surprised by the amount of resistance that met him. Pulling his hand back, he said, “Vincent. Y’hafta relax for me if you want it.”

Vincent had watched Cid hungrily as the pilot slicked his fingers with lubricant. Yes! He shivered again with anticipation, but when Cid sought entrance into his body, it resisted not only instinctively, but it remembered other invasions, ones that were cold and impersonal but still left him feeling violated and exposed. “Cid,” he moaned, wanting the man so badly it hurt, but afraid of a different kind of pain, “help me.”

“Glad to, honey,” Cid assured him, and changed position so that he was lying where he had been kneeling. Keeping his fingers near but never using pressure, he used them to tease around the entrance while he pressed kisses along the insides of his thighs and on his stomach. In time, his tongue reached out for Vincent’s erection, stroking up and down until it withdrew again to allow Cid to take it into his mouth. Once he had fully captured Vincent’s attention with the motions of his mouth, he tried again to press inside, and found it much easier this time. He saw no harm in continuing his pleasuring of Vincent, so as he stretched and prepared him, his head kept moving. By the time he was satisfied that Vincent’s body could take him, Cid had brought the poor man to the edge and pulled him back from it a few times, determined to give him the one thing he had asked for.

The images in his mind had grown to nearly horrific proportions, filled with restraints, metal probes and electronic devices meant for stimulation…and pain. Vincent’s heart was pounding and his chest was heaving great gulps of air, but then something began to intrude on his panicked thoughts. Soft, sensuous kisses to his inner thigh, slowly working their way onto his belly and he jumped and moaned when he felt Cid’s tongue come out to flick the head of his penis before he was engulfed in wet, hot heat that drove the frigid cold of the laboratory to the deepest parts of his mind. His hips rose off the mattress of their own volition in small thrusts as Cid continued to pleasure him and he was so focused upon that pleasure that he was completely oblivious to Cid’s fingers sliding in and out of his body, scissoring and stretching. Finally, when Vincent thought he could take no more, the pressure in his groin too much, Cid pulled away to slick himself, and this time he did whimper. He put up no resistance as Cid hooked his arm under his knee and lifted his hips to present him for penetration. Vincent started when he felt the broad head of Cid’s cock pushing against his anus and he bit his lip. Cid leaned down by his ear and nuzzled his neck before murmuring roughly, “I need’ja to push out honey, I don’ want it ta hurt.” Vincent felt the pilot stroking his cheek with such tenderness as he continued to murmur encouragements that the combination made something release inside Vincent’s mind and his body began to relax, as he did what Cid asked. He grunted as he felt Cid slide the rest of the way in until he was fully seated, his pelvis resting against Vincent’s buttocks. “Shit,” Cid gasped, “y’re so tight honey. So fuckin’ tight.” Vincent felt unbelievably stretched, and it burned. He had forgotten how this felt, and it was quickly becoming uncomfortable, but then Cid began to move. Slowly at first, with small pushes that wrung gasps from his throat, but those gasps quickly turned into moans as Cid deepened his strokes into driving thrusts, each one burying the pilot deeper and deeper still until Vincent could swear he could feel it in his throat.   He clung to Cid, getting lost in the sensation of being so utterly filled, and when Cid’s hips angled up and hit the bundle of nerves deep within his body, Vincent arched his back and cried out. What he cried out he didn’t know, he didn’t care as Cid, grinning, continued to pound into his body at that precise angle until Vincent couldn’t focus for the pleasure of it. “Cid!” he gasped, but the blond had one more surprise for him, wrapping one strong, calloused hand around his engorged erection and beginning to pump in time with his thrusts. It didn’t take long as the pressure in his groin tightened his balls and shot up his spine in a lightning arc until he flew apart, first arching his back, then bowing up to curve around Cid’s body as orgasm overtook him, causing him to cry out, his muscles twitching and hips giving small spastic jerks as he ejaculated onto his belly and into Cid’s hand. Above him, Cid gave a massive shudder and shoved into his body in three quick jerks before sighing and pushing up onto shaking arms to gaze down at him, his blue eyes heavy and sated. Vincent hadn’t realized he’d bitten the man until he both tasted blood on his lips and saw the bite mark on Cid’s shoulder. He tried to apologize but could only mutter in a slurred, exhausted voice, “I’m sorry…” before he just gave up and lay there, feeling Cid release his leg and letting his hips fall to the bed. It felt so good to lie there, warm and heavy. He was so relaxed and lethargic that he barely even registered the smooth, quiet and very involuntary purring that rumbled from deep within his chest.

Cid was certain it had never been this good. In the back of his mind, he also knew that he had probably thought the same thing many times before, but he ignored that. Besides, Vincent blew them all out of the park. Looking down at him, Cid had a feeling that once he became accustomed to intimacy again, Vincent would likely give him a run for his money. He would be positively perfect. Not that he wasn’t perfect already, of course, because he was, and he was also…purring? Nah. It was a familiar and comforting sound, but not something one normally expected to follow sex. Cid’s first absurd thought was that one of the feline members of the party had been watching, but that was ridiculous because Nanaki didn’t purr and Cait Sith could only simulate sounds. This was organic, fresh, and real…and definitely coming from Vincent. Cid raised an eyebrow at him. “That good, huh? Heh.” Vincent had the dignity to blush a bit at being called on his pleasure. “Guess that means I made, uh, everybody happy?” Ignoring his shoulder, he rolled off Vincent and looked at him. “We oughta get cleaned up.” Vincent, half-asleep, shot him a look that said, “I am not moving.” Cid smiled. “Well, I’ll take care of ya then, honey,” he said, but found that he did not want to move. “Fuck it, let’s just sleep. Big day t’morra. You are gonna stay here, right?” He didn’t leave his companion much choice as he pulled closer to him the body that was warmer than his own and still vibrating with the evidence of his contentment.

Vincent grunted as Cid pulled him against his body, spooning up behind him, but that didn’t feel right to him for some reason. So instead he wriggled around in Cid’s arms, ignoring the pilot’s startled sound until he was lying curled against the big blonde’s chest with his head on the pillow and just under Cid’s chin. He let his eyes drift shut as he inhaled Cid’s unique scent and listened to the strong, steady thudding of the man’s heart. He wrapped his arm around Cid’s waist, pulling the pilot closer and slid his leg in between Cid’s. He smiled and sighed softly when Cid draped his heavy thigh over him. This felt right; made him feel safe and, dare he think it, cherished. Sleep hovered just on the edge of his consciousness, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give into it, not when he knew what was waiting for him when he closed his eyes. So he lay there in Cid’s arms and listened to the pilot fall asleep, feeling how the man’s muscles slowly relaxed but never moved from where he cradled Vincent to him. After a while Vincent pulled back just slightly and placed his hand on Cid’s pectoral and couldn’t help the flinch at the contrast of his nearly ashy white, unnatural, skin compared to the warm sun-kissed bronze under his palm. Almost as though Cid could read his thoughts, the pilot murmured, “Y’re perfect Vince…jus’ like y’are….woudn’t change….any…thin.” and nuzzled his hair before falling back into heavier slumber…and beginning to snore. He bit back a chuckle and traced a scar on Cid’s chest, vaguely wondering where he got it. Several more hours passed with Vincent’s mind hesitantly daring to dream of a future, one that included Cid, where he finally put his past behind him and tried to move on, to make of life what his new body would allow him to. He would make a point enjoy the little things as well as the greater, such as his new friends - for he was beginning to think of them as such - and maybe, just maybe he could look upon sunsets again without feeling pain. Finally, as dawn began to turn the sky the lightest rose petal pink, Vincent managed to pry himself out of Cid’s arms and stood up at the edge of the bed. He looked down at the man who had woken his heart, a gentle, fond smile on his lips. He feathered his fingers through the short blond hair, and his smile widened to reach his eyes as Cid murmured his name. Then Vincent turned and made his way into the bathroom where he cleaned himself up and returned to the room to pull his pants on, leaving his shirt still folded with gloves and head scarf on the dresser. With a last look at the dead-to-the-world pilot, he made his way to the small kitchen where this all had started, and brewed some tea. He pulled down two mugs and filled them. Setting one on the table, he took the other into the bedroom to place it next to Cid’s cigarettes; he knew the pilot would be awake soon, and that the tea would still be warm if not hot. He returned for the second mug, pausing to look down at the drawing Cid had given him. Smiling, he picked it up, neatly folded it and placed it safely deep in his pocket before walking over to the large round window in the sitting area of Cid’s quarters and as he sipped his tea, he watched the sun rise and waited for his lover to wake up.

Cid blinked slowly upon waking; automatically reaching for Vincent as his body remembered the night before. His brow furrowed in confusion when he grasped nothing but air. So he left, huh? He thought, and spied the clothes still on the shelf and the tea on the table. A corner of his mouth lifted, and he stood, stretched, and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He figured Vincent would just look at him disapprovingly if he didn’t clean up a little. Still, he didn’t bother grabbing clothes when he went back for his tea, and Vincent didn’t seem surprised at all by his nakedness. “Mornin’.” Cid walked to stand behind him, slipping his arms around the wonderfully bare torso. He would have tried to drink his tea in that same position but for the fear that he would spill the liquid on Vincent. Reluctantly, he let go and moved to his chair, accidentally downing half the cup at once. He patted his lap and looked at the beauty standing a few feet away. “Well? Do I get a kiss or what?”

Ignoring the question for a more aesthetically worrying issue, Vincent crossed his arm over his stomach and propped the elbow of the arm holding his mug on it, as he raised an eyebrow. No, sadly he wasn’t surprised at Cid’s nakedness, but it was a little…disconcerting, if not necessarily unappealing. “If I am to continue living with you, Cid, then we’re going to have to invest in a robe, I should think.” He held up his mug, shutting his eyes when he saw Cid’s mouth come open, stopping the indignant reply. “Yes, I know that these are your quarters, but a little modesty goes a long way.” He then opened his eyes and grinned when he saw Cid’s crestfallen face. Vincent walked over to straddle the pilot’s legs and sit on the man’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Cid’s thicker neck and kissed him soundly, probing deeply with his tongue before sucking on the blonde’s lower lip as he pulled away. “Good morning,” he murmured, voice deep and soft, “did you sleep well?”

“Woulda slept better if you could sleep,” he pouted, setting his tea aside in favor of pulling Vincent closer. “But yeah, I did. Nice knowin’ you were there.” He smiled against Vincent’s ear. “Did you look? I think it’s finished.” His hands were beginning to stroke up and down Vincent’s back again, almost possessively. “Ah, shit. We better get goin’, huh? Spiky’s gonna be lookin’ for us. But dammit, I don’t wanna move just yet.”

“Mmmm,” Vincent hummed in pleasure, letting his eyes slide shut at the feel of those calloused hands sliding across his skin and he leaned into Cid’s body. His mug joined Cid’s on the small table by the chair as he returned his arms to around the pilot’s neck, “Who says I didn’t? It has been a long time since I have felt that safe, Cid, thank you.” So he told a little fib, but his inability…or rather, fear, to sleep was his problem and none of Cid’s concern. At the off-hand mention of what had to be the painting, Vincent was a little curious. With a sorrowful moan from Cid, he slid off the man’s lap and ventured back in by the bed to stand in front of the easel, calling as he went, “Don’t worry Cid, the sun is only just coming up, we have time…yet.” He ended in a whisper as he looked at the painting. His own vermilion eyes stared back from a moment frozen in time; a relaxed position with head cocked inquisitively and a portion of his wild hair falling into his face. But what made him stare was the smile that he wore. What was I thinking at that moment to make me look like that? He wondered as he brought his fingers to his lips. It was such a soft smile; alluring, beckoning and yet there was a lost innocence there, a shyness that he thought had been stripped from him forever. He was beautiful, vivid; alive. “Is this how you see me?” He whispered, entranced and yet disbelieving. “So beautiful,” he breathed. He was distantly aware of Cid standing next to the easel, watching him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the painting. His eyes slowly began to take in the rest, proportion, texture, shading and such exquisite detail, until he saw his ruined arm. He blushed and tried to hide the appendage under his other arm even as he noticed the scar just below his breastbone. His right hand came out and his fingers hovered just over the painted blemish then returned to rub the real thing and, quite unbidden his eyes burned and filled with tears. He fought to control them, but not before a single one dropped to trace a wet path down one pale cheek. That one scar, the permanent reminder of the day his identity, his freedom…his life had been taken from him, when that innocence he had seen only seconds before had been destroyed along with everything that had made him who he was. He looked at Cid who stared back at him soberly. “Who am I?” he whispered pleadingly, crossing his arms over his chest as he suddenly became cold. “Cid, who…who am I?”

“You’re Vincent Valentine. You’re a fighter. You’re the one I love so much I’d give anything. You’re everything I want. You’re the strongest, bravest man I know. An’ so much more, Vin. So much more.” He walked to stand beside Vincent and slid his arms around his shoulders. “You’re mine, if you have nothin’ to say against that. The rest…honey, you have time to figure out the rest. An’ if you’re mine, none of the rest matters half as much, ‘cause you’re still gonna belong to me no matter who you are.” He pulled away slightly, kissing away the tear and its companions. “An’ I’ll still belong to you,” he finished as he took Vincent’s hand and made it run over the painting. “’Beautiful’, you said,” he commented, using the captive hand to trace the quiet smile, the pale skin, the untamed hair, and the scars. “So what do you think this is?” he asked, moving to make Vincent’s hand trail down his body, from the shoulders down to the waist, then up again to cup the conflicted face. “Beautiful,” he said again. “I only paint what’s right in front o’ me, Vincent, an’ I usually avoid usin’ people as subjects, ‘cause they’re rarely as beautiful on the inside as they are outside. But you…I couldn’t not use you. Perfect inside an’ out, an’ even more so ‘cause you didn’t see it. But I want you to see it, when you’re ready. An’ when you are, you’ll know who you are. It ain’t somethin’ I can tell ya. But I can tell ya that I love ya.” He looked back at the painting and remembered suddenly how it had felt to study Vincent so carefully, to copy it down inch for inch, and what had come after that…Cid tried to hide his body’s reaction, and winced when he noticed Vincent registering it. Maybe a robe ain’t such a bad idea after all…

What could he say to that? As Cid talked, Vincent had just watched the pilot’s expression, transfixed. He had studied that precious face, looking for a lie and when he didn’t find any his heart had wept. Then Cid had walked his fingers over the figure on the canvas and had called him beautiful, inside and out. Part of him had sneered at empty words, the part of him that Hojo had torn apart and ruined and had become the mask he wore for the world, but in the deepest part of his heart, the part he had closed off in a desperate attempt to protect it, hope sighed a new breath. In the quiet moment following Cid’s declaration of love, Vincent had stood, wrapped in Cid’s strong, warm arms as they continued to stare at the painting. Suddenly Vincent stiffened when he felt something else stiffen. He grinned slowly and turned in Cid’s embrace to wrap his arms around the pilot’s waist and press the man flush against his own stirring body. He stared long and deep into Cid’s blue eyes and said softly and sincerely, “I am yours, Cid. I’ve always been yours, I think. It just took me too long to see it. Hn, and it would take someone of your infuriating persistence to see what I had kept hidden for so long that I thought it dead.” He leaned forward and kissed Cid slowly, deeply, bringing up a hand to cup the man’s cheek. He leaned back and then placed that hand in the center of Cid’s chest, “There is much that you don’t know about me, things that are dark…and ugly. As much as I want to protect you from that, I also want you to be a part of me, so when I am ready, I will share them with you. I am a monster, Cid, but perhaps…perhaps not an evil one, as I had once thought.” He ran his hand from Cid’s chest down over a ribbed abdomen, down lower still to brush against the man’s erection, feeling a flutter in his belly when he heard Cid gasp and saw him shiver at his touch, before returning his hand back around to the pilot’s lower back with the other. “In you, Cid, I see hope, and a future where before there was nothing. What I feel for you gives me more strength than did my need for vengeance, and if you know nothing else, then know this: I love you. I will stand and fight by your side, and if fate demands it and the gods are merciful, I will die by it as well with your name on my lips. But…” he trailed off and began to grin, undulating his hips against Cid’s causing the pilot to groan out loud, “…there are a few things I’d like to do before I’ll allow a little thing like death to stop me.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively then jumped, yelping when Cid pinched his ass.

“Now you behave, ya hear?” Cid whispered into his ear while he worked to get off the pants he really wished Vincent would never have put on. Once they were undone, they slid easily to the floor, and Vincent stepped out of them. Cid wanted to do everything all at once. Part of him wanted him to drop to his knees, another part wanted to get Vincent back in bed and see just how much time they could waste, one wanted to just hold him until it was time to go, but most of all, he wanted to explore. They had rushed into the night before, and today they still didn’t have time, no matter what Vincent said. Cid grabbed one of Vincent’s legs and lifted it to wrap around him, sighing happily when Vincent understood and brought up the other as well. He groaned again when their bodies came together as he walked them to the wall, hands beneath Vincent, holding him up. He rocked gently, wishing for the lube in the drawer so their sliding together would be smoother. He kissed Vincent’s neck as long as he could take it, biting down sharply when it got to be too much. “This one o’ them ‘few things’ y’had in mind?”

“Yes!” Vincent choked out when he felt Cid’s teeth on his neck and in answer to the man’s question. The cold wall and scorching skin under his hands made a contrast that only served to heighten his arousal, and he angled his pelvis to encourage Cid’s entry. Vincent grasped either side of Cid’s face, “Cid-“

“I don’t wan’ it-“ Cid gasped.

“It won’t. I’m ready for you,” he murmured.

“Vince-“

“Do it!” he cried before he caught Cid’s mouth in a blistering, toe-curling kiss. Cid groaned, parted his buttocks and eased past the tight ring of muscle. Vincent winced, hissing in a breath between his teeth at the bearable pain, pushing out to ease both it and Cid’s entry. But he was still wet and relaxed from their previous lovemaking and as Cid began to thrust, the friction began to cause his belly to tingle and tighten in pleasure. His arms slid around Cid’s neck as he held the pilot’s head to his own neck where the blond proceeded to nip and suckle, causing him to shiver. Cid’s cock struck that spot within him and a cry was pulled from his throat. He then turned his head in to gasp into Cid’s ear, “Faster, Cid…nnn, harder!” and Cid complied until the ferocity of the man’s thrusts had him threatening to get wall-burn. Orgasm hit him suddenly and hit him hard, Cid not a heartbeat behind, as his seed spurted up onto both of their stomachs. With abdominal muscles quivering, Vincent’s arms slipped from around Cid to hang loosely by his sides, and the only things holding him up were his legs wrapped around Cid’s waist and the pilot leaning into him, panting and pinning him to wall. This time he was a little more lucid to the eerie purring emanating from him.

Cid pulled back and ran his fingers over Vincent’s cheek, asking raggedly, “Is that purrin’ gonna happen every time, honey? ‘Cause I like it.”

The blonde leaned in to nibble along his jaw causing him to tilt his head back and to the side. “I-I don’t kn-“ he trailed off, having a difficult time focusing on anything but those lips and teeth against his flesh. When Vincent didn’t finish what he was saying Cid pulled back again to watch his face. He blinked rapidly, the purring dying away and said, “I don’t know, Cid. This is the first time I’ve had sex since…” Hojo got a hold of me. He finished silently.

Cid knew what he couldn’t say and replied, “Well, I like it, Vince. Lets me know when I done somethin’ right, yeah?”

Cid grinned, kissing him so soundly that he couldn’t find words with which to argue. But he did gather enough wits to murmur, “We should clean up or we will be late in meeting the others…” to which Cid commenced muttering unintelligible curses, but didn’t disagree. Without letting Vincent down, he walked them both into the bathroom.

They showered together, sharing kisses and caresses and when they finished, Cid took particular delight in toweling Vincent off, alternating with little nips and kisses when he saw a bit of flesh that appealed to him. Finally, after taking a conspicuously long amount of time to dry off, they dressed, quietly and soberly. And as Cid affixed his goggles to his head, took the Venus Gospel in hand, and lit a cigarette, Vincent finished buckling his gauntlet in place, chin tucked behind the high collar of his crimson mantle after strapping Death Penalty onto his thigh, it was as though they were only comrades. But as their eyes met and softened, words passed unspoken and touches passed unfelt. They weren’t needed, because they knew they had their newly realized love. With a final nod to each other, Cid Highwind and Vincent Valentine exited the Captain’s Quarters to rendezvous with their friends to go and save the world.

~Fin~

End Note: Cid and Vincent’s lives are just getting started! To Be Continued in: “Perfection”

And just because I seem to be obsessed with ‘notes’: First off, we just happily want to say a quick Thank You!! for reading “Prelude”, and giving such wonderful comments and feedback (you know who you are), you make all this worth it :D. And now sadly, “Perfection” is in the process of undergoing massive re-writes, so the first post in the next installment of the Valenwind series will be a little longer in coming than we had originally planned. We have no defense other than these guys own us, and that what we currently have now has gotten out of control…way, out of control! XDDD So we would humbly beg your patience while we make “Perfection” a bit more presentable for “company”. ^^