Fic: "Somewhere in Time Part V -- Frost in the Windows"; FF7
He’s still getting used to the weight and the movement when Gabriel suggests they do it. The white alloy is strong but slightly awkward, and it was all they could get out here. It works well enough, allowing him to stand and walk like he could before. And there, in the heat of the jungle, the sun simmering just on the horizon, Gabe’s testing him. Fucking him on one of those cots, making him moan. And it’s slick and sweaty and dirty and they’re both down in a place that makes them forget for a moment that they’re in fucking Wutai of all places. And when it’s over and they’re grinning at each other and lighting the cigarettes with fire materia, he doesn’t think that in a few days, Gabe’ll be dead like the other two rookies who stepped on a mine. He doesn’t think that Gabe’ll be ripped apart by shrapnel and torn to pieces by the dogs. All he thinks is that he’s lucky he’s got Gabe and that he’s got a new leg and that he’s not on the front lines wherever the fuck those are.
And Reeve cuts through the flesh of his right leg, not surprised now that it doesn’t bleed, but runs a little black. The knife stops when it hits metal. He cuts out a triangular piece of flesh, carefully prying it off, briefly exposing the white alloy beneath it. He feels no pain, and the flesh he cut out dissolves into black goo. He watches as strings of flesh begin to reform over the metal, slightly disturbed.
“So that was real…”
He’d remembered in a nightmare about Gabriel two weeks ago, and had just gotten up the courage to test his memories.
There’s frost on the windows already, a sign of the changing seasons. It’s been six months since Omega was defeated. He and Vincent have been living together for half a year, and neither will admit that it is something more than just a casual fuck relationship. Cait’s been teasing them for the past two weeks straight about it. And when Cait gets on something, he doesn’t shut up.
Vincent walks into the room in his boxers, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“Thought you might want some.”
He puts aside the knife, smiling and accepting the drink. Vincent watches the flesh knot itself together.
“So, what did you find?”
“Metal alloy used in false limbs during Wutai. I lost my leg in combat, apparently.”
“Mm.” Vincent makes his concern known only through his body language. It’s a silent dance that Reeve has learned to pick up on.
“I’m fine, Vincent. It doesn’t hurt or anything. It’s just… strange.”
The slender gunner drapes himself over Reeve like a cloak, wrapping his arms around him protectively.
“I’m here if you need me, Reeve.”
He looks down into the reflection in his coffee and smiles, slightly reminiscent.
“I know. So was he.”