Midgar Burning Chapter 59
Title: Midgar Burning
Authors: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Rating: NC-17 (eventually), most certainly R
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the characters and/or locations of FFVII, that would all be SquareEnix. Also any other references to persons or products mentioned herein are purely coincidental *coughs*, and where they are not then they belong to their respective writers, producers, directors, or other individuals/companies listed under that sneaky little thing called a "copyright".
Warnings: Adult themes, blood, some violence, language, kidnapping, torture, mentions of abuse, murder, and above all else...yaoi, the 'inappropriate to minors' kind, the 'makes us sit up past our bedtimes reading' kind, 'cause lets face it folks, it just wouldn't be the same without it! >:3
Summary: Even as Cid fights to show Vincent it’s okay to love again, Vincent’s enemies are moving in. Can Cid secure a place in Vincent’s heart before their world falls apart?
A/N: Two things folks: 1) This is an RP and 2) This fic is AU. The usual players here: silence = Cid, and all in Cid's world, and yours truly = Vincent, and all in Vin's world. Easiest way to say it. ^^ This fic is a 'novel'-form piece (ie multi-chapter) that is darker than what we normally write, and out of our comfort zone in the fact that we normally prefer to stick to canon-type stuff. But I got the idea from ani_mama 's artwork (more specifically this picture), persuaded silence to "go along with it", and it's been going 'full steam ahead' since then, and quite grown on us. We hope you all like it! Icon art provided by silk_weaver .
Note as of 2/25/2018 - Still at it! And we are quickly approaching where we left off before RL made us disappear! Soon there be pressure! :D Read on, dear readers, read on! ^.^
Chapter 59
Cid finished the rest of what was on his plate before depositing the dishes in the dishwasher. He could have sat there under Vincent’s approving gaze for hours, but given the circumstances, he was rather glad that the man had left. Vincent working meant things in motion, and things in motion meant a break from this dirty town. He grabbed a phone book, a pen, and some scratch paper he’d scrounged from a kitchen drawer. He flipped to the back of the book, where businesses were listed by category, and set about calling down the list.
The first two numbers he tried put him on hold for twelve and fourteen minutes respectively, and by the third, he was bored with the effort but determined to make this happen. Someone answered on the other end, and Cid asked in the most pleasant voice he could manage if she could give him estimates on a trip to Costa del Sol. She chattered at him in Mideelian and hung up, at which point he realized he’d punched in a digit incorrectly. He shook his head to clear the fog of doubt that was spreading. He tried the third number again, this time taking care to dial the number properly.
When he reached a machine that informed him that everyone was on lunch break, Cid sighed and hung up. He’d try again in an hour or two …or maybe tomorrow morning. For now, he wandered into the bedroom after Vincent so he could at least occupy his time by staring at the other man. It was preferable to making another phone call.
Quite unaware of just how much time his thoughts had spent in the past, it took a movement in the doorway to catch Vincent’s attention. He quickly shoved the picture frame under the bed and plastered a smile on his face, reminiscent of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It wouldn’t do for Cid to see him sad. The man would probably think it was something that he had done, and he didn’t think he could handle that right now. His cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “Sorry, got a little preoccupied with something.” He rolled over onto his hands and knees and crawled toward the bulk of the paper to begin pulling it into a neater pile. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to reorganizing this mess.
“Oh,” Cid said, a little disappointed. “Sounds like ain’t neither of us makin’ much progress, then.” That was no good. If they didn’t get this done… “Well. I reckon it don’t all hafta get done t’day, right?” He knelt down beside Vincent, seeing the glimmer of the picture frame under the bed and understanding. “Y’want some help cleanin’ up? Shouldn’t be on th’floor anyway.” Their faces were close, and he reached over with one hand to turn the other’s face toward him for a quick kiss. “Why don’t you call Tseng instead, have ‘im order ya a new machine? An’ set up that appointment,” he added, grinning and smacking Vincent’s backside with the papers he’d gathered. “I’ll clean this up.”
Vincent’s senses whirled at the quick kiss -Cid always managed to do that to him- but the swat with the paper had him flushing and leveling a glare at the blond. “Did you just hit me with paper?” he huffed indignantly, and then mumbled, “You don’t have to pick up after me. I made this mess, I’ll clean it up.” What he really wanted to do was drag his picture back out from under the bed, curl up with it, and sulk for a while, but the coldly logical part of his brain knew that that was childish and unrealistic. Making himself feel bad wasn’t going to get anything done, and wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d still be a widower, childless, without his humanity, shot, crippled, broken… he froze, wad of paper in his hand and sat back down. He looked at the paper, not seeing it. But he had Cid, didn’t he? He wasn’t alone. He had someone. So why then did it still hurt so much?
He couldn’t really answer that.
He missed Lucrecia, he would always miss her. They had shared something special, brief though it was. He would always miss his son; there would forever be a hole in his heart. The scars from his past would heal. He disliked what he did for a living, but he was good at it, and he was in a better place now with it. So where, then, did this sorrow come from? The best he could figure was, it was family. He yearned for a family. Something to ground him, give him a reason to solider on and do what had to be done; something that made waking up each day worth it. He had tasted that fruit once, and now he wanted more. But he couldn’t have that now, could he. He blinked and shook his head, giving a rather large sigh. He would think on it later, he had responsibilities to see to now.
Cid had raised an eyebrow and started to retort, but had shaken his head and grinned instead, continuing to clean up even though Vincent had told him he didn’t need to. He bit his lip now, looking at the other man who had paused in his work. Crawling toward him, Cid sat back on his heels and asked, “You all right? You c’n talk t’me, y’know. M’workin’ for ya now. Gotta keep it confidential,” he whispered, smiling and making a “zipped lips” gesture.
Vincent hesitated for a heartbeat before he looked sadly up at Cid, and a tiny smile ghosted over his lips before dying away again. He didn’t want to hurt Cid, make the man sad and possibly convey that his sorrow was Cid’s fault somehow. But he found that he wanted to talk about it a little. “I wish I were ‘all right,’ Cid. I-” He looked down at his boxer-clad lap again. “I was just thinking about why I feel so sad.” He shifted and got more comfortable. “I was thinking that I shouldn’t be, I mean, I have you, but there is this… persistent ache, here.” He said, touching his chest. “At first I thought it was grief for Lucrecia, but that was so long ago that that pain seems… old, somehow. Then it was Aiden, but again… so long ago. So I thought perhaps it was everything I suffered with Rufus; the rapes, the abuse and humiliation, but up until now, it never really mattered that much. No, forget it, it’s stupid…” he muttered and looked away.
“It’s not stupid,” Cid replied, reaching out to take Vincent’s hands. “If it hurts you, it’s important.” He was lost already, and touched that Vincent felt him something that could possibly help ease the pain. “If it makes you feel sad, then…” he didn’t want to say that he wanted Vincent to talk about it; that was what had gotten them in their earlier argument, more or less. He just shrugged instead, smiling fondly and squeezing the other man’s hands. “If it’s hurtin’ you, then you gotta hurt it back. Take away its hidin’ place in here,” he said softly, releasing one hand to touch Vincent’s chest gently.
“I want a family,” Vincent blurted before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted his lack of delicacy, but once it was out it could not be reclaimed. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately following, and looked down again. “I didn’t mean to- I mean I only- I shouldn’t have- dammit!” he muttered, blushing furiously. He didn’t know why, but he was irrationally convinced Cid was going to hate him now.
After Cid took a moment to absorb the words, his eyes lit up. “Really? I mean, hate t’tell ya, I can’t carry yer babies. But there’s always, y’know, other options,” he said, and then drooped a little, from eagerness almost back to his usual hesitance. “Y’didn’t…y’didn’t necessarily mean with me, did ya? I’d love t’be a part of a family with ya, Vincent.” He was blushing in return now, and he leaned forward well into Vincent’s personal space to rest their foreheads together. “I really would. I always thought, y’know, I might not be half-bad with kids. They like me, usually.” But if Vincent hadn’t meant with him, then… could he step to the side now to let Vincent find happiness somewhere else? The answer should have been easy. He should be able to give Vincent anything, even his freedom, but Cid didn’t think he could.
Vincent was startled by Cid’s response. His mouth worked soundlessly for a while before it finally snapped shut again, and he sat there blinking stupidly at Cid. The idea of having a family with Cid instead of a woman had never even once entered his mind beyond the laughable. Could it even work? A child needed a mother, didn’t it? A well-rounded family with the benefit of both parents to grow up stable and balanced, not two men… but did that really matter in the end? His eyes flicked around the immediate vicinity as his brain chewed on this new scenario. They finally lit on one of Cid’s hands and he frowned in thought. Yes, a child needed a mother, but what did a mother represent? To him, a mother represented: warmth, nurturing, shelter, comfort, gentleness, unquestionable love. So why couldn’t a father provide that? He had felt all of those things with Aiden. He had been willing to die for his tiny son and nothing had made him happier than to hold Aiden his in arms. The love he had felt for Aiden had been an awesome thing; powerful and undeniable. So why couldn’t two men, two fathers, raise a child? The most important thing a child required besides basic biological needs was love, and with Cid’s heart, he knew any child he and Cid could have would have more than enough love. He had the funds to see to all the rest. But there was his life to consider. Could he really bring a child into it? It would be a target, something his rivals would not hesitate to harm… it would require much thought and discussion, but he found himself asking in a whisper anyway, “Do you think we could?”
The silence had him a bit worried, and he wondered if he really wanted the answer. The way Vincent’s gaze was wandering around the room was worse- he’d seen that before, and he didn’t want Vincent to have another breakdown. He had been on the verge of whispering, “not me,” when he noticed the change in Vincent’s expression. He decided to wait instead, and when Vincent spoke, he had to keep himself from sighing in relief. Instead, he nodded wordlessly, eagerly, and began pressing kisses against Vincent’s cheek. “I think we could.” His hands, he noticed, were trembling a little, and he laughed at them. “Y’know what this means, right?” he murmured against the other man’s ear. “There ain’t no gettin’ rid o’ me now.”
Vincent snorted breathlessly around a sudden surge of arousal at the man’s proximity and touch and he breathed, “I’ve had no intention of ‘getting rid of you’for some time now, Cid.” He pushed back on Cid’s chest so he could meet Cid’s gaze. “But Cid, this is not like picking out a goldfish from the pet store. I was a father once, and a child changes your whole life. I only had Aiden for a month, but it was enough to teach me that. Hell, just holding that tiny body in my arms for the first time was long enough.” He stroked Cid’s cheek gently. “And my life is not exactly safe for a child, especially now with everything going on. This is something we need to talk about, and at great length.”
“I know,” he whispered sincerely. “An’ I know we’re not talkin’ right now. But just the idea, th’thought o’ havin’ a family, doin’ it right…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I know we could do it right. An’ it’s somethin’ we need t’talk about, but not right now.” He leaned into the hand on his cheek, feeling his eyes close. “I love it when you touch me,” he said after a moment, voice rougher than it had been moments before. “I want you,” Cid said, gaze finding Vincent’s again. “But I love you more. An’ I want…” his voice went quiet again for a moment, certain that Vincent would laugh at him. “Well. I ain’t askin’ ya t’marry me right now, either, but…maybe one day?”
Vincent blinked, shocked all over again. Marry Cid? His first instinct was to laugh, but Cid’s expression killed any kind of startled humor that may have arisen. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Cid; gently, tenderly and when he pulled back he rested his cheek against Cid’s stubbled one as his hand found its way to the back of Cid’s neck. “I think you and I have a great many things to talk about, Cid Highwind, but I shall make you this promise: I will think very hard and very carefully about what you are proposing and I shall listen to my heart as I do so, all right?”
Cid smiled and nodded. That was better than he could have asked for, and certainly more than he had hoped for. He rested against Vincent, happy to have the contact, and happy that they were so close that Vincent couldn’t see the shade of red still on Cid’s face. He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well,” he continued, brightening, “th’longer we put it off, the longer we’ll actually have things t’talk about, right?” Grinning and nearly back to his natural color, Cid whispered, “Thank ya. I thought… I figured y’d laugh. M’glad y’didn’t.”
“I can only ever be honest with you, Cid, I very nearly did.” Vincent pulled back, lips quirking up at the pink coloring Cid’s cheeks -clearly having missed most of the red- and said softly, “But something in your eyes told me you were serious, and that I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss it. Something I hadn’t seen, or felt, in a very long time,” he ended in a murmur, reaching up to trace Cid’s crow’s feet with a finger.
“I know. I’m glad yer honest, too. No matter what it means.” Frankly, there were probably some things he would rather not know, but that went without saying. He pouted at the last part. “I can too be serious,” he said, closing his eyes again and relaxing against the touch. “An’ you c’n call me obsessed all y’like, but m’startin’a think maybe you are too,” he added, smiling and turning to nuzzle the hand on his face. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, o’ course.”
“I am obsessed?” Vincent asked incredulously, both eyebrows going up. “Who was the one following me around? And if I remember correctly you had said that you had always known where I was.” He was baffled by the turn the conversation had taken. “I never meant to imply that you couldn’t be serious, Cid.”
Cid chuckled. “Calm down over there, I’m just teasin’ ya. Get used to it. I do it a lot.” He smiled at the other man and then looked around at the remnants of the mess. “What did y’mean, then?” he asked curiously. “Somethin’ that said I was serious that y’hadn’t seen in a long time, ‘r whatever y’said?”
Vincent had glared half-heartedly at Cid’s telling him to ‘calm down’ but that expression had melted away in favor of another, slightly melancholic and embarrassed one. “It was- it was the way I’m sure I looked when I asked Lucrecia to marry me, it was certainly the way I felt. Only she did laugh at me.” He looked down at the floor, fingers picking at the carpet and cheeks pink. “She told me not to rush into it, that we still didn’t know each other. But I knew that she was the one. We were both still at the Academy when I asked her. We had one more year each to go. She was pleased, I saw it, but I learned that you do not mock the feeling behind that question because the whole heart is put into it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued to pick at the carpet. “I remember what it felt like to get laughed at for something that you meant with your whole heart. Not- Not that you did- or perhaps you did, but I don’t know what you’re thinking- I just- you don’t- I mean- fuck.” He scowled. Look at him, babbling like an idiot. So to hide his embarrassment, he rolled back over onto all fours and resumed collecting papers.
Cid wasn’t sure what to say to that. On one hand, he’d meant every word he’d said. On the other, if that meant that Vincent thought he was acting the way a schoolboy would, then did he really want to admit to having put his whole heart into it? He was spared having to respond, though, when Vincent turned back around. Cid sat a few moments longer, thoughtful. And after those few minutes, he was finally able to say, “You’re not Lucrecia.” He frowned. That wasn’t quite what he’d meant to say, even if it did happen to be true. “I mean, I don’t think of ya as a woman. S’all I meant by it,” he clarified, and stood up only to sit on the edge of the bed, supervising the last of the cleaning up. “But I did mean it, ‘bout…the other thing. Won’t bring it up no more t’day, though.”
Vincent’s movements stilled. After a moment, messy stack of papers clutched in his hand, he turned around to face Cid and pushed himself back onto his knees to look up at the blond. His robe had come open and one side had sagged down to expose a pale, scarred shoulder. “Do you- do you think I am mocking you, Cid?” he asked softly, red eyes searching Cid’s face out from under thick black bangs.
Startled, Cid looked over at Vincent and smiled fondly at the sight of him. He leaned forward and pulled the robe back up over the shoulder that had quite effectively captured his attention while uncovered. Leaning just the extra bit forward, he placed a swift, gentle kiss to the other man’s lips. “I know y’re not,” he whispered, still close. “Maybe just mockin’ m’self a little.”
Vincent eyed Cid for a moment before snapping out of it with a soft “Hmph.” He resituated his robe, tying it closed again and snatching the last paper and the pen to add to the messy pile in his arms. Crawling to the edge of the bed, he placed the papers on the mattress and slowly dragged himself up onto his feet. With a wheeze, he settled back down onto the mattress back against the pillows, situated the comforter over his lap and began meticulously sorting the legal documents. “Please do not mock yourself, Cid,” he requested softly, not looking up. “There is no reason for it.”
Cid snorted and then sighed, lying back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. No reason? He could think of so many, not least of all the way he clung to every word Vincent said and took it to heart, the way his heart leapt every time he saw those lips twitch into a smile- Cid was a fool, and someone had to mock him. He’d prefer to do it himself rather than give someone else the pleasure. With another sigh, this one quieter, he sat up again and turned to face Vincent, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head on the pillow his arms formed when they folded across his legs. He bit his lip, thinking, and nodded in the direction of the papers. “Y’have any plans fer when y’re ready t’take a break from that?”
Vincent chuckled, fluttering the papers and stacking them more neatly. He looked over at Cid and cocked his head. “I just got started,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He sobered though upon seeing Cid’s expression. “What’s wrong?”
Cid grinned. “Well yeah, but I wouldn’t be doin’ m’job very well if I let ya go much longer without distractin’ ya, would I?” he asked, moving to sit next to Vincent. “An’ nothin’s wrong,” he said, shrugging. “Just wondered if y’maybe have a deck o’ cards or somethin’ around here.” Now that he had said it, he realized how ridiculous the concept was. Vincent had already wasted a hefty portion of his day humoring Cid, and he didn’t need to distract him further with pointless games. He could just play solitaire instead and let Vincent work.
“I mean, I could read, but I don’t think y’really have much here that’d hold m’int’rest.” Vincent wasn’t exactly the mechanic type, and nothing in print interested Cid quite as much as an old car catalog or a breakdown of the physics observed in various engines. New technology was crazy. “An’ I think I’ve had m’fill o’ TV ‘nless y’wanna watch a dirty movie with me,” he teased.
It was at that moment Vincent felt ashamed and selfish for keeping Cid here. While he could find plenty to do, he was keenly aware that Cid would be bored out of his mind, which in turn raised an entirely new set of concerns for him, but he would worry about them later. Right now he needed to find something for Cid to do. “I don’t know how long this will take, Cid. There’s so much here to go through, and go through carefully at that. I shall need to give it my complete attention,” he said softly, resting his cheek against the top of Cid’s head. He wracked his brain for something to do. “As for something to occupy you, I have some old Wutaian number puzzles you could do. Reno left a couple of his books here, but I don’t know how you feel about electrical engineering or computer programming. Also I have an antique clock that hasn’t run in years, if you like tinkering with that kind of thing.” He sighed. “Or I can call Tseng to give you a tour of the Tower if you like. I’d do it myself, except my mobility, as you well know, is quite limited. And then there is the gym.” He nuzzled the top of Cid’s head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not a very good host, am I.”
Cid wrinkled his nose. He’d be likely to break the clock even more, as out of practice as he was. Computer engineering sounded interesting, and he’d probably need those skills if he planned to find another job. He sat up slowly, heart pounding and eyes wide. What the hell was he going to do? He wasn’t qualified for anything. He had no background that mattered anymore, no credentials, no past employers willing to speak on his behalf. And he couldn’t spend the rest of his life on Vincent’s money. Turning to the other man, he asked quietly, “Vincent? What am I gonna do? I mean, stayin’ here ‘til you’re better is one thing. But after that?”
He shook his head, pulling away a few inches so the other man knew he was serious. “After that, I hafta do somethin’ with m’self, don’t I? I mean…” Thoughtful, he looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs for a moment. “I can’t do nothin’ forever.” He looked up, a small smile on his face as he turned to Vincent again. “Know what I’d like t’do. Y’talked about…settin’ me up with a warehouse an’ parts an’ all that. That sounds nice, but I’d wanna earn that money m’self, at least most of it. Even if it takes years. I’d like t’get a job workin’ as a mechanic, so’s I c’n have some practice b’fore I try an’ build th’Bronco. Only, I’d hafta go back t’school b’fore that. Ain’t nobody gonna hire a guy like me what’s got no experience an’ no qualifications.”
Cid’s words were a crushing weight to Vincent’s chest. He shouldn’t be surprised really; Cid was bound to bring it up eventually. Vincent sighed softly and rested his head back against the headboard, watching Cid’s expressive face as the man’s ramble came to a close. He denied the truth even to himself, electing instead to say, “No, you can’t.” He understood Cid’s need to work, to make his own way in life. But how could he now, with circumstances being what they were? Vincent didn’t know, but he was damned determined to help however he could.
He watched Cid out of tired, sad eyes. “I will provide you the warehouse, and parts you need. If you feel that you need to pay them off, you can do so by doing jobs for me. I need a pilot. I have runs that need to be made under the radar, and if you need something more honest, then I’ll put you in charge of my shipping fleet until you pay this debt-that-is-not-a-debt off. As for education, that is a small matter. I’ll see you get the best. I actually have a good friend who is an instructor at the best technical school in Midgar.” He figured his offer would probably insult Cid somehow, but it was the best he could do.
The panic left Cid’s eyes, and warmth replaced it. “Vincent, I’m not a pilot. I might not ever be.” The confidence there, the trust Vincent seemed to have in Cid’s ability to become worth using as any kind of employee, much less one doing something he loved, made his heart twist a little. He lifted a hand and cupped Vincent’s face, thumb stroking over his cheek. Once, the contrast between Vincent’s smooth skin and his own rough hands had been shocking, but now it only felt right. “But now I got even more reason t’learn how t’be one.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Vincent’s. “I’ll run yer dirty jobs for ya, if I make it there,” he assured him, then pressed their mouths together, closing his eyes as he did.
He wouldn’t be able to live a “normal” life; he’d known that since making the decision to come to Vincent. The prospect still frightened him a little, but he’d never really expected to be allowed, in this lifetime, to do anything he enjoyed even a little. Vincent…Vincent was giving him that and so much more. Vincent was giving him the chance to do everything he loved, at his leisure, and on top of that, allowing him to spend his life with the man he loved. Cid sighed softly into the kiss and increased its force, wanting to show Vincent how grateful he was.
It broke his heart, what he saw in Cid’s eyes, on his face and in his infinitely gentle touch. Vincent had turned his face into Cid’s hand before the blond kissed him, and when their lips sealed together, he forgot all about his paperwork. The neat stack slid off of his lap and back into a scattered mess as he opened his mouth to Cid’s, seeking and searching with his tongue as he slowly began to scoot down the bed, encouraging Cid to lie on top of him. He wanted to give Cid everything the man ever desired and dreamed of. His own dreams might be dead, but there was no reason he couldn’t live vicariously through his lover. It was enough, more than enough to see the smile on Cid’s face at the mention of flying, the light he saw in those blue eyes eclipsing the sorrow he felt in his own heart at trapping Cid into a life of shady deals, lies, and violence. Surely there was no reason for Cid not to find some joy, some kind of freedom in his new habitat. Vincent made up his mind right then and there, as he lost himself to the moist heat of Cid’s probing kisses, that he would work faithfully and tirelessly to keep Cid from ever running into the gilded bars of his new cage.
Authors: silence_laughs and calvi_sama
Pairing: Cid x Vincent
Rating: NC-17 (eventually), most certainly R
Disclaimer: We do not in any way own, nor profit from, the characters and/or locations of FFVII, that would all be SquareEnix. Also any other references to persons or products mentioned herein are purely coincidental *coughs*, and where they are not then they belong to their respective writers, producers, directors, or other individuals/companies listed under that sneaky little thing called a "copyright".
Warnings: Adult themes, blood, some violence, language, kidnapping, torture, mentions of abuse, murder, and above all else...yaoi, the 'inappropriate to minors' kind, the 'makes us sit up past our bedtimes reading' kind, 'cause lets face it folks, it just wouldn't be the same without it! >:3
Summary: Even as Cid fights to show Vincent it’s okay to love again, Vincent’s enemies are moving in. Can Cid secure a place in Vincent’s heart before their world falls apart?
A/N: Two things folks: 1) This is an RP and 2) This fic is AU. The usual players here: silence = Cid, and all in Cid's world, and yours truly = Vincent, and all in Vin's world. Easiest way to say it. ^^ This fic is a 'novel'-form piece (ie multi-chapter) that is darker than what we normally write, and out of our comfort zone in the fact that we normally prefer to stick to canon-type stuff. But I got the idea from ani_mama 's artwork (more specifically this picture), persuaded silence to "go along with it", and it's been going 'full steam ahead' since then, and quite grown on us. We hope you all like it! Icon art provided by silk_weaver .
Note as of 2/25/2018 - Still at it! And we are quickly approaching where we left off before RL made us disappear! Soon there be pressure! :D Read on, dear readers, read on! ^.^
Chapter 59
Cid finished the rest of what was on his plate before depositing the dishes in the dishwasher. He could have sat there under Vincent’s approving gaze for hours, but given the circumstances, he was rather glad that the man had left. Vincent working meant things in motion, and things in motion meant a break from this dirty town. He grabbed a phone book, a pen, and some scratch paper he’d scrounged from a kitchen drawer. He flipped to the back of the book, where businesses were listed by category, and set about calling down the list.
The first two numbers he tried put him on hold for twelve and fourteen minutes respectively, and by the third, he was bored with the effort but determined to make this happen. Someone answered on the other end, and Cid asked in the most pleasant voice he could manage if she could give him estimates on a trip to Costa del Sol. She chattered at him in Mideelian and hung up, at which point he realized he’d punched in a digit incorrectly. He shook his head to clear the fog of doubt that was spreading. He tried the third number again, this time taking care to dial the number properly.
When he reached a machine that informed him that everyone was on lunch break, Cid sighed and hung up. He’d try again in an hour or two …or maybe tomorrow morning. For now, he wandered into the bedroom after Vincent so he could at least occupy his time by staring at the other man. It was preferable to making another phone call.
Quite unaware of just how much time his thoughts had spent in the past, it took a movement in the doorway to catch Vincent’s attention. He quickly shoved the picture frame under the bed and plastered a smile on his face, reminiscent of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It wouldn’t do for Cid to see him sad. The man would probably think it was something that he had done, and he didn’t think he could handle that right now. His cheeks flushed as he mumbled, “Sorry, got a little preoccupied with something.” He rolled over onto his hands and knees and crawled toward the bulk of the paper to begin pulling it into a neater pile. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to reorganizing this mess.
“Oh,” Cid said, a little disappointed. “Sounds like ain’t neither of us makin’ much progress, then.” That was no good. If they didn’t get this done… “Well. I reckon it don’t all hafta get done t’day, right?” He knelt down beside Vincent, seeing the glimmer of the picture frame under the bed and understanding. “Y’want some help cleanin’ up? Shouldn’t be on th’floor anyway.” Their faces were close, and he reached over with one hand to turn the other’s face toward him for a quick kiss. “Why don’t you call Tseng instead, have ‘im order ya a new machine? An’ set up that appointment,” he added, grinning and smacking Vincent’s backside with the papers he’d gathered. “I’ll clean this up.”
Vincent’s senses whirled at the quick kiss -Cid always managed to do that to him- but the swat with the paper had him flushing and leveling a glare at the blond. “Did you just hit me with paper?” he huffed indignantly, and then mumbled, “You don’t have to pick up after me. I made this mess, I’ll clean it up.” What he really wanted to do was drag his picture back out from under the bed, curl up with it, and sulk for a while, but the coldly logical part of his brain knew that that was childish and unrealistic. Making himself feel bad wasn’t going to get anything done, and wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d still be a widower, childless, without his humanity, shot, crippled, broken… he froze, wad of paper in his hand and sat back down. He looked at the paper, not seeing it. But he had Cid, didn’t he? He wasn’t alone. He had someone. So why then did it still hurt so much?
He couldn’t really answer that.
He missed Lucrecia, he would always miss her. They had shared something special, brief though it was. He would always miss his son; there would forever be a hole in his heart. The scars from his past would heal. He disliked what he did for a living, but he was good at it, and he was in a better place now with it. So where, then, did this sorrow come from? The best he could figure was, it was family. He yearned for a family. Something to ground him, give him a reason to solider on and do what had to be done; something that made waking up each day worth it. He had tasted that fruit once, and now he wanted more. But he couldn’t have that now, could he. He blinked and shook his head, giving a rather large sigh. He would think on it later, he had responsibilities to see to now.
Cid had raised an eyebrow and started to retort, but had shaken his head and grinned instead, continuing to clean up even though Vincent had told him he didn’t need to. He bit his lip now, looking at the other man who had paused in his work. Crawling toward him, Cid sat back on his heels and asked, “You all right? You c’n talk t’me, y’know. M’workin’ for ya now. Gotta keep it confidential,” he whispered, smiling and making a “zipped lips” gesture.
Vincent hesitated for a heartbeat before he looked sadly up at Cid, and a tiny smile ghosted over his lips before dying away again. He didn’t want to hurt Cid, make the man sad and possibly convey that his sorrow was Cid’s fault somehow. But he found that he wanted to talk about it a little. “I wish I were ‘all right,’ Cid. I-” He looked down at his boxer-clad lap again. “I was just thinking about why I feel so sad.” He shifted and got more comfortable. “I was thinking that I shouldn’t be, I mean, I have you, but there is this… persistent ache, here.” He said, touching his chest. “At first I thought it was grief for Lucrecia, but that was so long ago that that pain seems… old, somehow. Then it was Aiden, but again… so long ago. So I thought perhaps it was everything I suffered with Rufus; the rapes, the abuse and humiliation, but up until now, it never really mattered that much. No, forget it, it’s stupid…” he muttered and looked away.
“It’s not stupid,” Cid replied, reaching out to take Vincent’s hands. “If it hurts you, it’s important.” He was lost already, and touched that Vincent felt him something that could possibly help ease the pain. “If it makes you feel sad, then…” he didn’t want to say that he wanted Vincent to talk about it; that was what had gotten them in their earlier argument, more or less. He just shrugged instead, smiling fondly and squeezing the other man’s hands. “If it’s hurtin’ you, then you gotta hurt it back. Take away its hidin’ place in here,” he said softly, releasing one hand to touch Vincent’s chest gently.
“I want a family,” Vincent blurted before he could stop himself. He immediately regretted his lack of delicacy, but once it was out it could not be reclaimed. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately following, and looked down again. “I didn’t mean to- I mean I only- I shouldn’t have- dammit!” he muttered, blushing furiously. He didn’t know why, but he was irrationally convinced Cid was going to hate him now.
After Cid took a moment to absorb the words, his eyes lit up. “Really? I mean, hate t’tell ya, I can’t carry yer babies. But there’s always, y’know, other options,” he said, and then drooped a little, from eagerness almost back to his usual hesitance. “Y’didn’t…y’didn’t necessarily mean with me, did ya? I’d love t’be a part of a family with ya, Vincent.” He was blushing in return now, and he leaned forward well into Vincent’s personal space to rest their foreheads together. “I really would. I always thought, y’know, I might not be half-bad with kids. They like me, usually.” But if Vincent hadn’t meant with him, then… could he step to the side now to let Vincent find happiness somewhere else? The answer should have been easy. He should be able to give Vincent anything, even his freedom, but Cid didn’t think he could.
Vincent was startled by Cid’s response. His mouth worked soundlessly for a while before it finally snapped shut again, and he sat there blinking stupidly at Cid. The idea of having a family with Cid instead of a woman had never even once entered his mind beyond the laughable. Could it even work? A child needed a mother, didn’t it? A well-rounded family with the benefit of both parents to grow up stable and balanced, not two men… but did that really matter in the end? His eyes flicked around the immediate vicinity as his brain chewed on this new scenario. They finally lit on one of Cid’s hands and he frowned in thought. Yes, a child needed a mother, but what did a mother represent? To him, a mother represented: warmth, nurturing, shelter, comfort, gentleness, unquestionable love. So why couldn’t a father provide that? He had felt all of those things with Aiden. He had been willing to die for his tiny son and nothing had made him happier than to hold Aiden his in arms. The love he had felt for Aiden had been an awesome thing; powerful and undeniable. So why couldn’t two men, two fathers, raise a child? The most important thing a child required besides basic biological needs was love, and with Cid’s heart, he knew any child he and Cid could have would have more than enough love. He had the funds to see to all the rest. But there was his life to consider. Could he really bring a child into it? It would be a target, something his rivals would not hesitate to harm… it would require much thought and discussion, but he found himself asking in a whisper anyway, “Do you think we could?”
The silence had him a bit worried, and he wondered if he really wanted the answer. The way Vincent’s gaze was wandering around the room was worse- he’d seen that before, and he didn’t want Vincent to have another breakdown. He had been on the verge of whispering, “not me,” when he noticed the change in Vincent’s expression. He decided to wait instead, and when Vincent spoke, he had to keep himself from sighing in relief. Instead, he nodded wordlessly, eagerly, and began pressing kisses against Vincent’s cheek. “I think we could.” His hands, he noticed, were trembling a little, and he laughed at them. “Y’know what this means, right?” he murmured against the other man’s ear. “There ain’t no gettin’ rid o’ me now.”
Vincent snorted breathlessly around a sudden surge of arousal at the man’s proximity and touch and he breathed, “I’ve had no intention of ‘getting rid of you’for some time now, Cid.” He pushed back on Cid’s chest so he could meet Cid’s gaze. “But Cid, this is not like picking out a goldfish from the pet store. I was a father once, and a child changes your whole life. I only had Aiden for a month, but it was enough to teach me that. Hell, just holding that tiny body in my arms for the first time was long enough.” He stroked Cid’s cheek gently. “And my life is not exactly safe for a child, especially now with everything going on. This is something we need to talk about, and at great length.”
“I know,” he whispered sincerely. “An’ I know we’re not talkin’ right now. But just the idea, th’thought o’ havin’ a family, doin’ it right…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I know we could do it right. An’ it’s somethin’ we need t’talk about, but not right now.” He leaned into the hand on his cheek, feeling his eyes close. “I love it when you touch me,” he said after a moment, voice rougher than it had been moments before. “I want you,” Cid said, gaze finding Vincent’s again. “But I love you more. An’ I want…” his voice went quiet again for a moment, certain that Vincent would laugh at him. “Well. I ain’t askin’ ya t’marry me right now, either, but…maybe one day?”
Vincent blinked, shocked all over again. Marry Cid? His first instinct was to laugh, but Cid’s expression killed any kind of startled humor that may have arisen. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Cid; gently, tenderly and when he pulled back he rested his cheek against Cid’s stubbled one as his hand found its way to the back of Cid’s neck. “I think you and I have a great many things to talk about, Cid Highwind, but I shall make you this promise: I will think very hard and very carefully about what you are proposing and I shall listen to my heart as I do so, all right?”
Cid smiled and nodded. That was better than he could have asked for, and certainly more than he had hoped for. He rested against Vincent, happy to have the contact, and happy that they were so close that Vincent couldn’t see the shade of red still on Cid’s face. He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well,” he continued, brightening, “th’longer we put it off, the longer we’ll actually have things t’talk about, right?” Grinning and nearly back to his natural color, Cid whispered, “Thank ya. I thought… I figured y’d laugh. M’glad y’didn’t.”
“I can only ever be honest with you, Cid, I very nearly did.” Vincent pulled back, lips quirking up at the pink coloring Cid’s cheeks -clearly having missed most of the red- and said softly, “But something in your eyes told me you were serious, and that I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss it. Something I hadn’t seen, or felt, in a very long time,” he ended in a murmur, reaching up to trace Cid’s crow’s feet with a finger.
“I know. I’m glad yer honest, too. No matter what it means.” Frankly, there were probably some things he would rather not know, but that went without saying. He pouted at the last part. “I can too be serious,” he said, closing his eyes again and relaxing against the touch. “An’ you c’n call me obsessed all y’like, but m’startin’a think maybe you are too,” he added, smiling and turning to nuzzle the hand on his face. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, o’ course.”
“I am obsessed?” Vincent asked incredulously, both eyebrows going up. “Who was the one following me around? And if I remember correctly you had said that you had always known where I was.” He was baffled by the turn the conversation had taken. “I never meant to imply that you couldn’t be serious, Cid.”
Cid chuckled. “Calm down over there, I’m just teasin’ ya. Get used to it. I do it a lot.” He smiled at the other man and then looked around at the remnants of the mess. “What did y’mean, then?” he asked curiously. “Somethin’ that said I was serious that y’hadn’t seen in a long time, ‘r whatever y’said?”
Vincent had glared half-heartedly at Cid’s telling him to ‘calm down’ but that expression had melted away in favor of another, slightly melancholic and embarrassed one. “It was- it was the way I’m sure I looked when I asked Lucrecia to marry me, it was certainly the way I felt. Only she did laugh at me.” He looked down at the floor, fingers picking at the carpet and cheeks pink. “She told me not to rush into it, that we still didn’t know each other. But I knew that she was the one. We were both still at the Academy when I asked her. We had one more year each to go. She was pleased, I saw it, but I learned that you do not mock the feeling behind that question because the whole heart is put into it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued to pick at the carpet. “I remember what it felt like to get laughed at for something that you meant with your whole heart. Not- Not that you did- or perhaps you did, but I don’t know what you’re thinking- I just- you don’t- I mean- fuck.” He scowled. Look at him, babbling like an idiot. So to hide his embarrassment, he rolled back over onto all fours and resumed collecting papers.
Cid wasn’t sure what to say to that. On one hand, he’d meant every word he’d said. On the other, if that meant that Vincent thought he was acting the way a schoolboy would, then did he really want to admit to having put his whole heart into it? He was spared having to respond, though, when Vincent turned back around. Cid sat a few moments longer, thoughtful. And after those few minutes, he was finally able to say, “You’re not Lucrecia.” He frowned. That wasn’t quite what he’d meant to say, even if it did happen to be true. “I mean, I don’t think of ya as a woman. S’all I meant by it,” he clarified, and stood up only to sit on the edge of the bed, supervising the last of the cleaning up. “But I did mean it, ‘bout…the other thing. Won’t bring it up no more t’day, though.”
Vincent’s movements stilled. After a moment, messy stack of papers clutched in his hand, he turned around to face Cid and pushed himself back onto his knees to look up at the blond. His robe had come open and one side had sagged down to expose a pale, scarred shoulder. “Do you- do you think I am mocking you, Cid?” he asked softly, red eyes searching Cid’s face out from under thick black bangs.
Startled, Cid looked over at Vincent and smiled fondly at the sight of him. He leaned forward and pulled the robe back up over the shoulder that had quite effectively captured his attention while uncovered. Leaning just the extra bit forward, he placed a swift, gentle kiss to the other man’s lips. “I know y’re not,” he whispered, still close. “Maybe just mockin’ m’self a little.”
Vincent eyed Cid for a moment before snapping out of it with a soft “Hmph.” He resituated his robe, tying it closed again and snatching the last paper and the pen to add to the messy pile in his arms. Crawling to the edge of the bed, he placed the papers on the mattress and slowly dragged himself up onto his feet. With a wheeze, he settled back down onto the mattress back against the pillows, situated the comforter over his lap and began meticulously sorting the legal documents. “Please do not mock yourself, Cid,” he requested softly, not looking up. “There is no reason for it.”
Cid snorted and then sighed, lying back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. No reason? He could think of so many, not least of all the way he clung to every word Vincent said and took it to heart, the way his heart leapt every time he saw those lips twitch into a smile- Cid was a fool, and someone had to mock him. He’d prefer to do it himself rather than give someone else the pleasure. With another sigh, this one quieter, he sat up again and turned to face Vincent, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head on the pillow his arms formed when they folded across his legs. He bit his lip, thinking, and nodded in the direction of the papers. “Y’have any plans fer when y’re ready t’take a break from that?”
Vincent chuckled, fluttering the papers and stacking them more neatly. He looked over at Cid and cocked his head. “I just got started,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He sobered though upon seeing Cid’s expression. “What’s wrong?”
Cid grinned. “Well yeah, but I wouldn’t be doin’ m’job very well if I let ya go much longer without distractin’ ya, would I?” he asked, moving to sit next to Vincent. “An’ nothin’s wrong,” he said, shrugging. “Just wondered if y’maybe have a deck o’ cards or somethin’ around here.” Now that he had said it, he realized how ridiculous the concept was. Vincent had already wasted a hefty portion of his day humoring Cid, and he didn’t need to distract him further with pointless games. He could just play solitaire instead and let Vincent work.
“I mean, I could read, but I don’t think y’really have much here that’d hold m’int’rest.” Vincent wasn’t exactly the mechanic type, and nothing in print interested Cid quite as much as an old car catalog or a breakdown of the physics observed in various engines. New technology was crazy. “An’ I think I’ve had m’fill o’ TV ‘nless y’wanna watch a dirty movie with me,” he teased.
It was at that moment Vincent felt ashamed and selfish for keeping Cid here. While he could find plenty to do, he was keenly aware that Cid would be bored out of his mind, which in turn raised an entirely new set of concerns for him, but he would worry about them later. Right now he needed to find something for Cid to do. “I don’t know how long this will take, Cid. There’s so much here to go through, and go through carefully at that. I shall need to give it my complete attention,” he said softly, resting his cheek against the top of Cid’s head. He wracked his brain for something to do. “As for something to occupy you, I have some old Wutaian number puzzles you could do. Reno left a couple of his books here, but I don’t know how you feel about electrical engineering or computer programming. Also I have an antique clock that hasn’t run in years, if you like tinkering with that kind of thing.” He sighed. “Or I can call Tseng to give you a tour of the Tower if you like. I’d do it myself, except my mobility, as you well know, is quite limited. And then there is the gym.” He nuzzled the top of Cid’s head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not a very good host, am I.”
Cid wrinkled his nose. He’d be likely to break the clock even more, as out of practice as he was. Computer engineering sounded interesting, and he’d probably need those skills if he planned to find another job. He sat up slowly, heart pounding and eyes wide. What the hell was he going to do? He wasn’t qualified for anything. He had no background that mattered anymore, no credentials, no past employers willing to speak on his behalf. And he couldn’t spend the rest of his life on Vincent’s money. Turning to the other man, he asked quietly, “Vincent? What am I gonna do? I mean, stayin’ here ‘til you’re better is one thing. But after that?”
He shook his head, pulling away a few inches so the other man knew he was serious. “After that, I hafta do somethin’ with m’self, don’t I? I mean…” Thoughtful, he looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs for a moment. “I can’t do nothin’ forever.” He looked up, a small smile on his face as he turned to Vincent again. “Know what I’d like t’do. Y’talked about…settin’ me up with a warehouse an’ parts an’ all that. That sounds nice, but I’d wanna earn that money m’self, at least most of it. Even if it takes years. I’d like t’get a job workin’ as a mechanic, so’s I c’n have some practice b’fore I try an’ build th’Bronco. Only, I’d hafta go back t’school b’fore that. Ain’t nobody gonna hire a guy like me what’s got no experience an’ no qualifications.”
Cid’s words were a crushing weight to Vincent’s chest. He shouldn’t be surprised really; Cid was bound to bring it up eventually. Vincent sighed softly and rested his head back against the headboard, watching Cid’s expressive face as the man’s ramble came to a close. He denied the truth even to himself, electing instead to say, “No, you can’t.” He understood Cid’s need to work, to make his own way in life. But how could he now, with circumstances being what they were? Vincent didn’t know, but he was damned determined to help however he could.
He watched Cid out of tired, sad eyes. “I will provide you the warehouse, and parts you need. If you feel that you need to pay them off, you can do so by doing jobs for me. I need a pilot. I have runs that need to be made under the radar, and if you need something more honest, then I’ll put you in charge of my shipping fleet until you pay this debt-that-is-not-a-debt off. As for education, that is a small matter. I’ll see you get the best. I actually have a good friend who is an instructor at the best technical school in Midgar.” He figured his offer would probably insult Cid somehow, but it was the best he could do.
The panic left Cid’s eyes, and warmth replaced it. “Vincent, I’m not a pilot. I might not ever be.” The confidence there, the trust Vincent seemed to have in Cid’s ability to become worth using as any kind of employee, much less one doing something he loved, made his heart twist a little. He lifted a hand and cupped Vincent’s face, thumb stroking over his cheek. Once, the contrast between Vincent’s smooth skin and his own rough hands had been shocking, but now it only felt right. “But now I got even more reason t’learn how t’be one.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Vincent’s. “I’ll run yer dirty jobs for ya, if I make it there,” he assured him, then pressed their mouths together, closing his eyes as he did.
He wouldn’t be able to live a “normal” life; he’d known that since making the decision to come to Vincent. The prospect still frightened him a little, but he’d never really expected to be allowed, in this lifetime, to do anything he enjoyed even a little. Vincent…Vincent was giving him that and so much more. Vincent was giving him the chance to do everything he loved, at his leisure, and on top of that, allowing him to spend his life with the man he loved. Cid sighed softly into the kiss and increased its force, wanting to show Vincent how grateful he was.
It broke his heart, what he saw in Cid’s eyes, on his face and in his infinitely gentle touch. Vincent had turned his face into Cid’s hand before the blond kissed him, and when their lips sealed together, he forgot all about his paperwork. The neat stack slid off of his lap and back into a scattered mess as he opened his mouth to Cid’s, seeking and searching with his tongue as he slowly began to scoot down the bed, encouraging Cid to lie on top of him. He wanted to give Cid everything the man ever desired and dreamed of. His own dreams might be dead, but there was no reason he couldn’t live vicariously through his lover. It was enough, more than enough to see the smile on Cid’s face at the mention of flying, the light he saw in those blue eyes eclipsing the sorrow he felt in his own heart at trapping Cid into a life of shady deals, lies, and violence. Surely there was no reason for Cid not to find some joy, some kind of freedom in his new habitat. Vincent made up his mind right then and there, as he lost himself to the moist heat of Cid’s probing kisses, that he would work faithfully and tirelessly to keep Cid from ever running into the gilded bars of his new cage.