Soon to be (Hopefully) Finished Fic
Baka, here's that CidVin, afraid of the dark, swish of lab coat fic I was telling you about. I haven't finished it yet, but I thought you might like to read what I have. Peer, befor eyou click that link, as you're probably considering doing now, remember, this will(eventually, when finished) have Cid and Vincent kissing(among other things). Consider that before you click.
I still love my Vincent action figure. I chew on his right boot sometimes.
The nightmares might not have been so bad, if it weren’t for the fact that there was another to witness them.
It was, he supposed, almost expected that after spending three decades locked in a coffin, which had followed a few years trapped in the laboratory of a mad scientist, that he would be afraid of the dark, that his own screams would wake him up, panting and sweating and scrambling at the bed sheets to find something solid, something here. But Cid never said anything, simply brewed a pot of cheap hotel tea and, lit a cigarette, and offered to play Vincent in a game of poker though sleep still clung to them both.
On the nights when the white curtains swayed a bit too much like a lab coat, when the creak of floorboards tricked the ears into believing they were the voices of demons he’d fear the night and his dreams were wicked and cursed. But Cid was there, silent and rough and smelling of cigarettes and grease. After the first time, he always shared a room with Cid.
But one night Cloud haggled enough that they all got their own room, a luxury Tifa had called it. Vincent cursed the thin plaster wall which separated him from Cid, which felt too too similar to the worn wood of a coffin for comfort. So he curled beneath the sheets, clenched his eyes and pressed the brick-solid pillow over his ears so the not-quite-there sounds weren’t heard. The lingering scent of bleach on the covers reminded him of a sterilized room which gleamed of fluorescent lights. He fought down the bile which coated his throat, trying to convince himself to peak his head over the edge of the cover, that nothing lurked in the corner of his room.