Vincent/Cid oneshot (belatedly) for V-day.
Well hey, here's a nice little oneshot for V-day. My very first FFVII fic too. There's nothing much happening in my life right now, beyond the usual money issues, mid-terms, and finally starting work.
But whatever, enjoy the fic people!
Like It Rough
A Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction
By: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Pairing: Vincent/Cid
Warnings: Pheromones, YAOI, m/m sex, Cid’s language
Disclaimer: This fic, while being a creative work of my own invention contains characters and settings that belong to someone else. Final Fantasy, its recognizable characters, vehicles, locals and situations are the property of someone other than me. However, should you wish to archive my fic, please make certain to ask me for permission first. Plagiarism is not appreciated, and will be met with the scorn and derision that it deserves. Thank you for understanding, your cooperation is expected. Please enjoy the fanfic.
Notes: This fic was written in protest against the common characterization of Vincent Valentine as a delicate, trembling, virgin flower. Yes, he has loads of angst-inducing trauma, but FOR FUCK’S SAKES, he was a Turk! A political bodyguard and professional assassin! He killed (and still kills) people/things FOR A LIVING. Just because he is quiet does NOT mean that he is shy, or scared, or any shit like that. Vincent is the strong, silent type. So there. Long hair and a pretty face does NOT a weak-kneed maiden make, people. Get with the program.
Love and Kisses,
-Niko’s Inner Cid.
Summary: Cid walks in on Vincent naked. Vincent stalks Cid for a little while and notices that Cid smells good. Then they have sex. That’s all really.
XD-XP
Like It Rough
XD-XP
Vincent Valentine is attracted to intelligence, kindness, and competence, with perhaps a tiny bit of vulnerability. Although after what Lucretcia Crescent did to him, he is certain not to let himself care for anyone who would lie to him, or is unable to take care of themselves. Someone with a strong sense of morality, the ability to know right from wrong and can stand on their principles.
Cid Highwind is a bit more difficult. What attracts him? Some would point to Shera and insist that the Captain like them sweet and submissive. If that were truly the case though, would he not have found someone long before the Meteor crisis and reconciling with Shera? And do not start on about one-true-love. Shera and the Captain stayed in close proximity for years and he never once touched her or took advantage. Yeah, Cid Highwind is a man of honour, but he is still a man. And if he were truly attracted to the submissive type (or even just Shera’s type) he would have found a way to justify hooking up with Shera long before those Avalanche people got to him.
Now me? I think that the Captain is after someone who can take everything Cid Highwind can dish out and give it right back as good or better. Miss Shera is a nice girl, and it is obvious that she and the Captain care for each other, but they will not last. Miss Shera just does not have it in her to go against the Captain unless it is a matter of life and death. The Captain needs someone who will challenge him he gets bored otherwise.
You do not believe me? Fine, I can prove that I am right; just you wait and watch what happens.
XD-XP
Human beings are, with a few exceptions of greater and lesser degree, communal creatures. And making conversation, spreading news, gossip - whatever you call it - people love to talk about other people. Enclosed environments, where you see the same people day after day, like schools, offices, or military barracks, where everyone knows everyone else, are prime gossip breeding grounds. And when it comes to closed off environments, you cannot get much more isolated than an airship several hundreds of feet in the air… and the crews of the Sierra and the Highwind II loved to gossip.
(It should be noted here that when the crews were questioned about their Captain’s stance on their gossiping the crew just laughed. Something about kettles was mentioned.)
The most recent subject to make the rounds of the Highwind II’s conversational circles was the subject of the Captain and Shera’s divorce.
“They didn’t even make it a year, such a shame.”
“Apparently it was Miss Shera who was the one to call it quits. Imagine that! Said that she wasn’t happy, and that the Captain wasn’t either.”
“Rumor has it that she’s seeing some big quiet fellow that the Captain introduced her to now. Quite a change from the Captain.”
At this point, someone would inevitably laugh. The Highwind’s crew had a well worn inside joke. Everyone on the crew tended to be of average height or less, with compact builds. Spend most of your time crawling through engines and it was obvious why the ones to survive Cid’s competence tests were all so short and wiry. Duct crawling and wrestling with large metal engine pieces produced a distinctive physique.
“Back to the main point, hasn’t Miss Shera been seen with some red-haired fellow recently?”
“Oh never mind that! What about the Captain giving command of the Sierra over to Miss Shera once the Highwind rebuild was finished. Never would have thought he’d give up one of his planes.”
“Well, Shera still works for the Captain, now doesn’t she? Being on two different airships just gives them a bit of space.”
(It should be noted here that people who live on airships have an odd concept of distance.)
“It’s good that Mr. Valentine stuck around to give the Captain some company, isn’t it? Never took him for the sort.”
“He’s awfully quiet, that’s all. He’s a good friend to the Captain, being here for moral support and all that.”
“Yeah, who would have thought that the creepy guy was so thoughtful?”
“Just goes to show that you can never tell with the quiet ones. Look, there they go. They make quite a pair don’t they?”
“Yeah, a pair of opposites.”
“Quiet you, and help me with this valve, I think it’s jammed.”
Walking past the small work crew struggling with the sticky valve, Cid cut a glance at Vincent, idly wondering what the man walking beside him thought about the ‘ship’s gossip. The Captain tended to make the rounds every couple of days, and the crew was so used to it that they never bothered to lower their voices.
Cid was the Captain, and as such should not be doing something like gossiping. But he was still an engineer, and a nosy bastard besides, and he liked to stay in the loop. The crew could not get as familiar with the Captain as they could with each other, so a compromise was silently worked out. The crew could gossip without censure, as long as they did not get vicious, and the Captain would listen in to keep in the know. It was an agreement that worked out well for everybody.
But speaking of the ships gossip, Cid had to admit that they had a point, it was a bit strange for Vincent to stick around for as long as he had. The ex-Turk had the damnable habit of disappearing after the excitement was over, not getting in touch for weeks or months at a time. Then he would suddenly show up out of nowhere for a day or two, just to prove he was alive, and then off he would go again. Though to be fair he always managed to show up in exactly the right place at exactly the right time whenever he was needed.
And so here they were.
Cid had to admit that it was nice to have a friend around. He would not give up being the Captain for almost anything, but it could get dammed lonely at the top, especially for a man with Cid’s notorious reputation for bad temper.
Cid did not really need the moral support, but it was nice to have someone he could talk to as an equal. He was actually glad that Shera had called it quits. If she had not, then he would have soon had too. It was a good thing that the woman had finally stood up for herself, and admitted that what she had thought she wanted was not what was going to make her happy.
The Sierra had always been more Shera’s ship than his, and with Shera in charge of the other airship Cid was able to foist the job’s he did not want to deal with onto Shera. Such as ferrying Rufus and the Turk’s around. Cid could not stand them, but they and Shera got on surprisingly well. ShinRa Electrical Company may have been diminished, but it was far from dead. Rufus was now flying around to all the ShinRa labs they could locate in the files, cleaning them out and focusing them on researching fuel sources.
Once again, Cid eyed his companion as they silently wandered the airship, not for the first time taking in the pale, porcelain skin, the long, raven-black hair, the slender body mostly hidden by his draping cloak, and the glowing eyes that often held a deep grief. It was a pity that Vincent was so goddamn fragile. The ex-Turk had a sense of humour that Cid could appreciate, because while Cid could curse and snark with the best of them, when he decided to be verbal Vincent was a Master at the fine art of sarcasm. If the man had not been so fucking breakable then Cid might have made the offer to take their friendship to the next level, dead girlfriend or no.
Oh, Cid knew, intellectually, that Vincent could probably fold him in half, spear and all, and that it was probably damn near impossible to kill him, but that just could not compete with the impression of fragility that Vincent’s frequent bouts of angst and morbid rants on sin-and-atonement left with the pilot.
So Cid treated his friend (maybe his best friend? Hell, the crew had taken a poll and Vincent was the only one able to stand Cid for extended periods of time without contemplating murder or suicide) with a gruff sort of aggressive gentleness. (Which was pretty much how he treated the rest of Avalanche, his crew, and random kids in the streets, but it is the thought that counts dammit!) And resigned himself to ignoring the way Vincent’s ruthless efficiency, understated strength, and grace in battle made him a bit happy in his pants.
Things probably would have remained the same between them; a good friendship based on shared experiences, indefinitely. Yeah, nothing would have changed between them, if only Cid had not walked in on Vincent and seen him naked.
XD-XP
There were scars.
And Vincent was naked.
Cid blinked.
There were a lot of scars.
And Vincent was still naked.
And he was looking at Cid with one eyebrow going up in a ‘yes? Was there something you wanted?’ expression that Cid really would have paid more attention to if he had not been distracted by the scars… and the naked… and the scars.
Cid liked scars. He thought of them as tributes to a life well lived with hardships overcome and survived. Cid had several scars himself, mostly burns from his engineering work, some big ones from crashes, or permanent reminders of the Meteor fiasco. But to put it simply, scars turned Cid on. And Vincent had lots.
And shoulders, and hell! Vincent was ripped!
Almost of their own accord, Cid’s eyes dropped down.
Cid made an odd, high pitched noise, and jerked his eyes back up only to have his gaze catch on abschestscarsshouldersscars. Cid flushed red as he mouth soundlessly for as few moments, gesturing helplessly. Finally the blond just turned and ran from the room.
Vincent blinked after the fled Captain, eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. Cid had just done a credible imitation of a schoolgirl walking in on her crush in the shower. The amused expression faded to be replaced by one of speculation.
XD-XP
Cid shoved his cabin door shut, putting his back against it as he panted. It was not the run that had stolen his breath; it was the image of naked Vincent.
Any previous misconceptions about Vincent being fragile had been completely demolished by the blatant strength Cid had seen in the corded muscles that lay under heavily scarred skin.
‘Well they do say that black has a slimming effect.’ Cid thought inanely, ‘and that cloak of his is huge. Even Barret would be swimming in it.’ Cid laughed a bit hysterically. He had a boner over his best friend - a friend with a proven interest in women - and here he was thinking fashion.
“I am so fucked.” Cid commented to the ceiling. Vincent was smart; he would be able to figure out what Cid’s reaction meant. Cid sighed and scrubbed at his hair, “So, so fucked.”
And not in any fun way either, more is the pity.
“Captain?” Cid jumped as a crewmember knocked on his door, “Captain are you in?”
“Yeah.” Cid pulled the door open, “What d’ya want?”
“A package was picked up for you at the last stop, sir.” Said the crewman, handing a plain box to Cid.
“Thanks Jennings.” Cid said as he took it.
“Sir.” Jennings sketched a small salute and continued down the hall. Cid did not watch him go, and instead closed the door to his cabin and locked it, putting his back to the door once again.
“This is just what I need.” Cid said, recognizing the return address on the simple brown package. “I’m gonna start believin’ in higher powers at this rate.”
Cid tore open the box and fished out the item he wanted before tossing the rest onto a nearby chair. He pushed away from the door, kicking off his boots and losing his socks in the process. He crossed the room, popping the button of his jeans and wrenching down the zip as he fell onto his bed. Cid shoved his jeans and boxers down to mid thigh, making a happy sound as his erection was freed. Not bothering to undress any more than he already had, he unscrewed the cap of the item in his hand. The item from the box was a tube of lube, and he spread some on both hands before recapping the tube and tossing it onto his side table. Cid curled his now-slicked fingers around his length and pumped his hand. Eyes closed, Cid could not help bringing up the image of Vincent from that too-short glimpse of bare, scarred skin, familiar ghost-pale features and red-coal eyes. Cid bit his lip and lifted his knees, spreading his legs as much as the shackles or his jeans allowed and got his other hand underneath him. The hand on his erection worked harder as Cid shoved two fingers inside himself, the burn and pressure flaring up his spine as he crooked his fingers and pressed just right. He could not help thinking of how Vincent’s fingers would feel, longer, bigger. Cid came hard, with a whimper of Vincent’s name.
Cid stared up at the ceiling of his room, feeling hollow and frustrated. His seed was cooling on his stomach and he had just tossed one off while thinking about his (straight) best friend sans clothing.
“Fuck.” Cid said succinctly and rolled off the bed to get cleaned up.
XD-XP
Cid could feel eyes on his back, burning holes into his spine. He shrugged it off and went to help Peirson adjust the manifold alignments.
He figured out who must have been watching him about two hours later while walking down an otherwise empty corridor.
“Cid.” The voice came from behind him.
“Shit!” Cid jumped and spun around, “Vince! Don’t do that! Gonna gimmie a fuckin’ heart attack!”
“My apologies.” Vincent smirked and failed to look at all apologetic.
“Right.” Cid drawled trying to calm his racing heartbeat as he noticed how close Vincent was standing. The fast pulse of alarm skipped a beat, changed to a different tempo altogether and entirely failed to slow down at all, “What can I do fer ya?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” Vincent was frowning, looking a bit distracted, which was a bit odd. Vincent was always focused. Cid decided not to question anything that might get him out of the upcoming conversation faster.
“Oh yeah? About what?” Stay calm, keep your head, and whatever you do, do not think about how much you want to strip him naked and jump his bones.
… Fuck.
“About the…” Vincent paused mid-sentence, eyes glazing for a second before he shook his head, looking oddly confused, “About the other day when you walked in on me. I wanted to let you know that I understand it was an accident and I do not hold it against you.”
Hell yeah, a naked Vincent up against him, maybe pinning him to the wall right here? Mm, just like that.
“That’s great!” Oh, fuck, please do not let his voice crack. And do not look down. Pray that Vincent does not look down. “Anything else?”
“No, I…” Was Vincent… sniffing at him? He was. Exactly how augmented were Vincent’s senses anyway? Oh shit, he was doomed.
“Glad we’ve got this all cleared up. I gotta go now, Vince.” Cid babbled, desperate to get away before Vincent of the super nose clued into the tent Cid had pitched in his jeans, “Lotsa work to do. I’ll see ya later, alright?”
Vincent inhaled deeply and made a funny growling noise.
Cid bolted.
Vincent stared after him, still taking abnormally deep breaths as if striving to capture all of the pilots lingering scent, still growling softly. What had that been about?
XD-XP
Vincent was starting to get rather irritated at the current situation. Cid had been avoiding him since the ‘shower incident’. It was annoying. Vincent would have thought his friend horrified by his scars, his disfigurement, except he knew better. Cid was not that superficial. Vincent might have thought Cid embarrassed, but again, that was unlike the pilot. What was more, whenever Vincent had managed to corner Cid over the last few days the pheromones indicative of arousal had saturated the air around him. Had Cid taken a new lover? But no, Vincent had not smelled anyone on Cid but the man himself.
Still, it was aggravating how Vincent had been unable to get his friend alone recently. The main reason the slippery little bastard kept getting away was that whenever Vincent thought he had the man pinned down he got smacked in the face with a wave of sexual frustration. The sudden flood of arousal had shocked him so much the last time that Vincent has taken a step back in order to clear his head. Cid had bolted. The scene had repeated itself numerous times over the last few days.
Each time it happened Vincent grew more and more baffled, not a feeling he liked to admit to. He had tried to sort through the scent-information to the best of his ability, but he had been both helped and hindered in his efforts by the sympathetic responses that were brought up in Vincent himself. What was worse, his demons were far too interested in the way Cid smelled for the gunman’s comfort. It seemed as if the thing to do would be to focus entirely on his goal (talking to Cid) without letting his emotions or his demons reactions to Cid’s scent to distract him. Right. He was once a Turk. He could do this.
Vincent stalked off to hunt down a grumpy blond pilot.
After a few hours of futile searching however, Vincent was starting to wonder if he had gotten the wrong impression of Cid. Perhaps Cid really was disgusted by his appearance. But… that still did not explain how Cid could smell so much of arousal while Vincent was near.
Vincent decided to back off a little and just observe the situation more carefully. Over the next couple of days he stalked his friend, watching him from the shadows as Cid worked on the Highwind.
Cid was edgy at first, peering around as if he expected Vincent to swoop down on him at any moment. And there were times when the gunman was sorely tempted, but then something mechanical and horrifically complicated would require Cid’s full attention and the pilot would relax as he worked.
And Vincent watched him.
The ex-Turk had never devoted any great amount of time to studying his Avalanche companions, but while shadowing Cid Vincent learned some things that he never would have guessed about the pilot. Like, for instance, how Cid was freakishly flexible. Vincent had been watching his friend in fascinated shock as Cid folded and twisted his body into a startling variety of uncomfortable looking shapes as he worked on and in the guts of the airship. What was equally surprising was seeing most of the crew do similar things during his observations of their Captain. Apparently Cid had not been joking when he had told Vincent that one of his hiring criteria was the ability to ‘kiss your own ass goodbye in case of emergency’.
As he watched, Vincent continually sorted through the confusing scents he had picked up from Cid. Isolating and identifying each component of the scent Cid had released when Vincent was near. Lust-desire-want had been strongest, mixed with fear-shame-anger, and underneath it all was a tiny thread of hope-excitement. But even knowing what he had been picking up left Vincent horribly confused, because he did not know the why or who behind the emotions, he did not know which thoughts that had prompted them.
There was no avoiding it, he was going to have to talk to Cid about what, exactly, was going on between them. Vincent had a few guesses, but he could only know for certain if he talked to Cid.
Talk. To. Cid.
Vincent winced.
It was not as if talking to Cid was an unpleasant task, Vincent reflected. It was just that Cid quite obviously hated talking about himself in any real depth. Cid could carry on for hours about his mechanical genius and fighting prowess, but as soon as anything personal came up Cid shut down and ran off to find something he needed to fix now, okay-thanks-bye.
Well then, the only option left was to corner Cid and not let him escape this time. Vincent briefly contemplated the headache he was going to have. Cid tended to get louder the more desperate he got to avoid a conversation.
Vincent sighed and straightened his shoulders before stalking off to find a good ambush point to lie in wait for Cid. Who would have thought one of the loudest, most abrasive people Vincent had ever met would be so dammed hard to find.
Lurking as only a (former) Turk could, Vincent kept an eye out for his quarry as he haunted the hallway close to Cid’s private cabin.
Muttered curses alerted him to his targets approach, the voice preceding the familiar scents of hot metal and engine grease. They nearly covered the almost undetectable smell of smoke. Cid really did not smoke as much as he appeared to. Which should not have been surprising, his occupation made lit cigarettes stupid at best and suicidal at worst (sparks plus the large amounts of extremely flammable, combustible liquids and gasses found inside engines equals explodey doom) and if Cid had really been the chain-smoker he passed himself off as he never would have been able to keep up, let alone survive, the Meteor debacle. Cid did not usually smoke the cigarettes; most of the time he either held it in his lips unlighted, or waved it around in his hand. That was not to say that Cid never smoked, just that it was not often. When Vincent had realized how Cid had fooled everybody about his habit the gunman had been most amused.
The irate blond opening his cabin door pulled from Vincent of his musings on Cid’s idiosyncrasies. Vincent ghosted up behind his friend, only paying half attention to the peevish listing of the crew’s faults and foolishness. The lions share of the gunman’s attention was on how absolutely wonderful Cid smelled. That was, like metal and grease and smoke and tea, which Vincent never before would have called wonderful, but somehow when mixed with the smell of Cid, they were.
Vincent leaned in closer, only paying partial attention to Cid’s sudden silence as the pilot stiffened halfway through the doorway, alerted to Vincent’s intrusion on his personal space by the instinct developed through fighting for your life on a daily basis. Vincent drifted closer, all of the voices in his head silent for once as he tried to pin down that elusive something that was drawing him closer to Cid. Slowly, Cid turned around and found himself nose to chest with Vincent’s looming form.
Cid took a step back.
Vincent took a step forward.
The door to the Captain’s cabin swung shut behind them.
XD-XP
Cid had to remind himself to breath as he watched Vincent close the door to his quarters. The latch clicked into place like a released safety catch. Cid swallowed, Vincent’s searching crimson eyes never looked away from Cid’s face. The blond pilot struggled for his composure, but felt it slip away as Vincent stalked towards him.
Cid’s back hit the far wall next to his bunk with a thump, making Cid jump. He had not even realized that he had been backing up. So much for keeping it cool, Cid thought with a mental groan, there was no way Vincent would believe that nothing was going on now. Fuck, he was acting like some blond bimbo in a bad romance movie. Vincent paused, barely a foot from the pilot as Cid attempted to convince his body to relax and un-plaster itself from the wall.
“Highwind.” Vincent said, breaking the silence. Cid was unable to hold back a twitch at the sound of Vincent’s voice. Vincent watched him carefully as Cid stared back, eyes wild and desperately trying to find some part of Vincent to look at that would not drive him nuts with sexual frustration.
“Cid.” Vincent seemed to have gentled somehow, obviously sensing his friend’s distress, voice soft, “We should talk.”
“Y-yeah?” Cid cleared his throat, cursing silently at the crack in his voice, “What about, Vince?”
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Vincent asked without preamble. Cid gaped, pinned by glowing red eyes and knowing that he could not get away with denial. That did not mean that he would not try to though.
“Haven’t really been avoiding ya, Vince. I’ve just been busy, ‘s’all.” Cid tried a casual shrug, “The Highwind’s a new ‘ship. There’re all kindsa bugs and kinks to work out.”
“Cid.” Vincent said, voice flat, “We both know that’s not the real reason you’ve been running from me for the past week. That’s not even part of the reason. It’s an excuse, and a poor one. Now, I would like the truth, if you don’t mind.” Vincent’s eyes were blazing, full of repressed emotion that never showed in the mildly annoyed tones of his voice. Cid swallowed and licked his lips, missing the way Vincent’s gaze zeroed in on the action.
“You-” Cid coughed, eyes darting around in search of escape, “You don’t really wanna know that, Vince. It’s nothing important, and it’ll damn well pass on its own in a bit. So just fucking drop it, alright?”
“No.” Vincent said calmly, “I’m not going to drop it.”
“Fucking Hel, Vince!” Cid exploded, spiting curses, trying to drive the gunman away so he could make his escape, “Leave it alone! It’s none of your fucking business anyway!”
“It’s because of my scars.” Vincent interjected when Cid paused for breath. Cid’s face drained of colour as he froze, staring at Vincent again, “I understand if you find my disfigurement horrifying. I-”
A wave of sexual pheromones smacked Vincent in the face. The gunman stopped speaking abruptly, mouth still open, and with his next breath Vincent could taste Cid’s arousal on the air.
“Vince…” Cid scrambled for something, anything, to say that could salvage the situation. He took a step away from the wall and put a hand on Vincent’s arm, looking up at his friends face. Vincent’s eyes flared brightly with strong emotion (hurt? Anger? Cid could not tell) and Cid did not want his friend to be hurt by anything Cid said or did. If only Vincent had not brought up the scars! Why was it that his fucking hormones would not listen to reason? “Vince. I… it isn’t the scars, all right? Fuck, it’s… it’s something personal. I’ll get over it. I - Vince?”
Cid squawked as Vincent crowded him up against the wall and shoved his face into the crook of Cid’s neck. Strong hands curled around Cid’s biceps and hauled him up until he was at a more accessible height. Held more than a foot off the floor by a demon-possessed gunman, with said gunman’s nose nuzzling his neck just under his ear, it was probably no surprise that Cid was sporting an expression that conveyed his fear that Vincent had gone off the deep end. Cid was frozen, hanging rigid in Vincent’s grip, eyes closed against a blow that never came.
Okay then, Cid slowly relaxed, as Vincent did nothing more that shift his grip a little and sniff Cid’s shoulder. Vincent was not mad he was just…
Vincent licked Cid’s neck, nosing aside the collar of his pilot’s jacket to get at the sensitive hollow just below Cid’s ear. Cid gasped, tilting his head to give Vincent more room even as his mind whirled in confusion.
Right. So Vincent was not angry. He was just molesting Cid up against the wall of the Captain’s own quarters. All right then, Cid could deal with this.
“Vincent?” Cid started slowly, aware that he was in a very delicate position, “Something - oh fuck! - Something ya wanted to talk to me about, yeah?”
Vincent growled, and that felt real nice vibrating against the underside of Cid’s jaw. Cid swallowed, “So… so m-maybe ya wanna put me down an’ we can talk abou - Ah!”
There was a disapproving growl, followed by a confusing moment of rapid repositioning before Cid found himself in an entirely new predicament. Vincent had shifted things around so that he held Cid up by a solid grip on the underside of the pilot’s thighs. A single inch further up and Cid’s ass would have been in Vincent’s hands. This might have been of interest to the Cid if something else had not grabbed his attention by the throat. Vincent had pulled Cid’s legs up and apart, settling in between Cid’s thighs with a satisfied growl. Cid could not help but moan when Vincent’s groin pressed up against his own. Cid’s hips made tiny, instinctive movements as he tried vainly to remember how to talk.
“Vince… Vince - oh fuck - we - ah!” Cid threw his head back, stars exploding across his vision as Vincent thrust against the pinned pilot, growling happily and laying sucking bites on Cid’s neck that would later develop into truly spectacular marks.
And Cid gave in, threw in the metaphorical towel and made up his mind to enjoy the situation, sudden and unexpected as it may have been.
Shucking his gloves, Cid tangled his hands in Vincent’s hair and pulled the ex-Turks face up to kiss him for the first time. It was a rough kiss, with teeth that pressed just a bit too hard. It was messy and wet and far too deep to be anything less than pornographic.
It was perfect.
XD-XP
Second Half
Hey check it out, my first two part post! ^_^
But whatever, enjoy the fic people!
Like It Rough
A Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction
By: Sanjuno Shori Niko
Pairing: Vincent/Cid
Warnings: Pheromones, YAOI, m/m sex, Cid’s language
Disclaimer: This fic, while being a creative work of my own invention contains characters and settings that belong to someone else. Final Fantasy, its recognizable characters, vehicles, locals and situations are the property of someone other than me. However, should you wish to archive my fic, please make certain to ask me for permission first. Plagiarism is not appreciated, and will be met with the scorn and derision that it deserves. Thank you for understanding, your cooperation is expected. Please enjoy the fanfic.
Notes: This fic was written in protest against the common characterization of Vincent Valentine as a delicate, trembling, virgin flower. Yes, he has loads of angst-inducing trauma, but FOR FUCK’S SAKES, he was a Turk! A political bodyguard and professional assassin! He killed (and still kills) people/things FOR A LIVING. Just because he is quiet does NOT mean that he is shy, or scared, or any shit like that. Vincent is the strong, silent type. So there. Long hair and a pretty face does NOT a weak-kneed maiden make, people. Get with the program.
Love and Kisses,
-Niko’s Inner Cid.
Summary: Cid walks in on Vincent naked. Vincent stalks Cid for a little while and notices that Cid smells good. Then they have sex. That’s all really.
XD-XP
Like It Rough
XD-XP
Vincent Valentine is attracted to intelligence, kindness, and competence, with perhaps a tiny bit of vulnerability. Although after what Lucretcia Crescent did to him, he is certain not to let himself care for anyone who would lie to him, or is unable to take care of themselves. Someone with a strong sense of morality, the ability to know right from wrong and can stand on their principles.
Cid Highwind is a bit more difficult. What attracts him? Some would point to Shera and insist that the Captain like them sweet and submissive. If that were truly the case though, would he not have found someone long before the Meteor crisis and reconciling with Shera? And do not start on about one-true-love. Shera and the Captain stayed in close proximity for years and he never once touched her or took advantage. Yeah, Cid Highwind is a man of honour, but he is still a man. And if he were truly attracted to the submissive type (or even just Shera’s type) he would have found a way to justify hooking up with Shera long before those Avalanche people got to him.
Now me? I think that the Captain is after someone who can take everything Cid Highwind can dish out and give it right back as good or better. Miss Shera is a nice girl, and it is obvious that she and the Captain care for each other, but they will not last. Miss Shera just does not have it in her to go against the Captain unless it is a matter of life and death. The Captain needs someone who will challenge him he gets bored otherwise.
You do not believe me? Fine, I can prove that I am right; just you wait and watch what happens.
XD-XP
Human beings are, with a few exceptions of greater and lesser degree, communal creatures. And making conversation, spreading news, gossip - whatever you call it - people love to talk about other people. Enclosed environments, where you see the same people day after day, like schools, offices, or military barracks, where everyone knows everyone else, are prime gossip breeding grounds. And when it comes to closed off environments, you cannot get much more isolated than an airship several hundreds of feet in the air… and the crews of the Sierra and the Highwind II loved to gossip.
(It should be noted here that when the crews were questioned about their Captain’s stance on their gossiping the crew just laughed. Something about kettles was mentioned.)
The most recent subject to make the rounds of the Highwind II’s conversational circles was the subject of the Captain and Shera’s divorce.
“They didn’t even make it a year, such a shame.”
“Apparently it was Miss Shera who was the one to call it quits. Imagine that! Said that she wasn’t happy, and that the Captain wasn’t either.”
“Rumor has it that she’s seeing some big quiet fellow that the Captain introduced her to now. Quite a change from the Captain.”
At this point, someone would inevitably laugh. The Highwind’s crew had a well worn inside joke. Everyone on the crew tended to be of average height or less, with compact builds. Spend most of your time crawling through engines and it was obvious why the ones to survive Cid’s competence tests were all so short and wiry. Duct crawling and wrestling with large metal engine pieces produced a distinctive physique.
“Back to the main point, hasn’t Miss Shera been seen with some red-haired fellow recently?”
“Oh never mind that! What about the Captain giving command of the Sierra over to Miss Shera once the Highwind rebuild was finished. Never would have thought he’d give up one of his planes.”
“Well, Shera still works for the Captain, now doesn’t she? Being on two different airships just gives them a bit of space.”
(It should be noted here that people who live on airships have an odd concept of distance.)
“It’s good that Mr. Valentine stuck around to give the Captain some company, isn’t it? Never took him for the sort.”
“He’s awfully quiet, that’s all. He’s a good friend to the Captain, being here for moral support and all that.”
“Yeah, who would have thought that the creepy guy was so thoughtful?”
“Just goes to show that you can never tell with the quiet ones. Look, there they go. They make quite a pair don’t they?”
“Yeah, a pair of opposites.”
“Quiet you, and help me with this valve, I think it’s jammed.”
Walking past the small work crew struggling with the sticky valve, Cid cut a glance at Vincent, idly wondering what the man walking beside him thought about the ‘ship’s gossip. The Captain tended to make the rounds every couple of days, and the crew was so used to it that they never bothered to lower their voices.
Cid was the Captain, and as such should not be doing something like gossiping. But he was still an engineer, and a nosy bastard besides, and he liked to stay in the loop. The crew could not get as familiar with the Captain as they could with each other, so a compromise was silently worked out. The crew could gossip without censure, as long as they did not get vicious, and the Captain would listen in to keep in the know. It was an agreement that worked out well for everybody.
But speaking of the ships gossip, Cid had to admit that they had a point, it was a bit strange for Vincent to stick around for as long as he had. The ex-Turk had the damnable habit of disappearing after the excitement was over, not getting in touch for weeks or months at a time. Then he would suddenly show up out of nowhere for a day or two, just to prove he was alive, and then off he would go again. Though to be fair he always managed to show up in exactly the right place at exactly the right time whenever he was needed.
And so here they were.
Cid had to admit that it was nice to have a friend around. He would not give up being the Captain for almost anything, but it could get dammed lonely at the top, especially for a man with Cid’s notorious reputation for bad temper.
Cid did not really need the moral support, but it was nice to have someone he could talk to as an equal. He was actually glad that Shera had called it quits. If she had not, then he would have soon had too. It was a good thing that the woman had finally stood up for herself, and admitted that what she had thought she wanted was not what was going to make her happy.
The Sierra had always been more Shera’s ship than his, and with Shera in charge of the other airship Cid was able to foist the job’s he did not want to deal with onto Shera. Such as ferrying Rufus and the Turk’s around. Cid could not stand them, but they and Shera got on surprisingly well. ShinRa Electrical Company may have been diminished, but it was far from dead. Rufus was now flying around to all the ShinRa labs they could locate in the files, cleaning them out and focusing them on researching fuel sources.
Once again, Cid eyed his companion as they silently wandered the airship, not for the first time taking in the pale, porcelain skin, the long, raven-black hair, the slender body mostly hidden by his draping cloak, and the glowing eyes that often held a deep grief. It was a pity that Vincent was so goddamn fragile. The ex-Turk had a sense of humour that Cid could appreciate, because while Cid could curse and snark with the best of them, when he decided to be verbal Vincent was a Master at the fine art of sarcasm. If the man had not been so fucking breakable then Cid might have made the offer to take their friendship to the next level, dead girlfriend or no.
Oh, Cid knew, intellectually, that Vincent could probably fold him in half, spear and all, and that it was probably damn near impossible to kill him, but that just could not compete with the impression of fragility that Vincent’s frequent bouts of angst and morbid rants on sin-and-atonement left with the pilot.
So Cid treated his friend (maybe his best friend? Hell, the crew had taken a poll and Vincent was the only one able to stand Cid for extended periods of time without contemplating murder or suicide) with a gruff sort of aggressive gentleness. (Which was pretty much how he treated the rest of Avalanche, his crew, and random kids in the streets, but it is the thought that counts dammit!) And resigned himself to ignoring the way Vincent’s ruthless efficiency, understated strength, and grace in battle made him a bit happy in his pants.
Things probably would have remained the same between them; a good friendship based on shared experiences, indefinitely. Yeah, nothing would have changed between them, if only Cid had not walked in on Vincent and seen him naked.
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There were scars.
And Vincent was naked.
Cid blinked.
There were a lot of scars.
And Vincent was still naked.
And he was looking at Cid with one eyebrow going up in a ‘yes? Was there something you wanted?’ expression that Cid really would have paid more attention to if he had not been distracted by the scars… and the naked… and the scars.
Cid liked scars. He thought of them as tributes to a life well lived with hardships overcome and survived. Cid had several scars himself, mostly burns from his engineering work, some big ones from crashes, or permanent reminders of the Meteor fiasco. But to put it simply, scars turned Cid on. And Vincent had lots.
And shoulders, and hell! Vincent was ripped!
Almost of their own accord, Cid’s eyes dropped down.
Cid made an odd, high pitched noise, and jerked his eyes back up only to have his gaze catch on abschestscarsshouldersscars. Cid flushed red as he mouth soundlessly for as few moments, gesturing helplessly. Finally the blond just turned and ran from the room.
Vincent blinked after the fled Captain, eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. Cid had just done a credible imitation of a schoolgirl walking in on her crush in the shower. The amused expression faded to be replaced by one of speculation.
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Cid shoved his cabin door shut, putting his back against it as he panted. It was not the run that had stolen his breath; it was the image of naked Vincent.
Any previous misconceptions about Vincent being fragile had been completely demolished by the blatant strength Cid had seen in the corded muscles that lay under heavily scarred skin.
‘Well they do say that black has a slimming effect.’ Cid thought inanely, ‘and that cloak of his is huge. Even Barret would be swimming in it.’ Cid laughed a bit hysterically. He had a boner over his best friend - a friend with a proven interest in women - and here he was thinking fashion.
“I am so fucked.” Cid commented to the ceiling. Vincent was smart; he would be able to figure out what Cid’s reaction meant. Cid sighed and scrubbed at his hair, “So, so fucked.”
And not in any fun way either, more is the pity.
“Captain?” Cid jumped as a crewmember knocked on his door, “Captain are you in?”
“Yeah.” Cid pulled the door open, “What d’ya want?”
“A package was picked up for you at the last stop, sir.” Said the crewman, handing a plain box to Cid.
“Thanks Jennings.” Cid said as he took it.
“Sir.” Jennings sketched a small salute and continued down the hall. Cid did not watch him go, and instead closed the door to his cabin and locked it, putting his back to the door once again.
“This is just what I need.” Cid said, recognizing the return address on the simple brown package. “I’m gonna start believin’ in higher powers at this rate.”
Cid tore open the box and fished out the item he wanted before tossing the rest onto a nearby chair. He pushed away from the door, kicking off his boots and losing his socks in the process. He crossed the room, popping the button of his jeans and wrenching down the zip as he fell onto his bed. Cid shoved his jeans and boxers down to mid thigh, making a happy sound as his erection was freed. Not bothering to undress any more than he already had, he unscrewed the cap of the item in his hand. The item from the box was a tube of lube, and he spread some on both hands before recapping the tube and tossing it onto his side table. Cid curled his now-slicked fingers around his length and pumped his hand. Eyes closed, Cid could not help bringing up the image of Vincent from that too-short glimpse of bare, scarred skin, familiar ghost-pale features and red-coal eyes. Cid bit his lip and lifted his knees, spreading his legs as much as the shackles or his jeans allowed and got his other hand underneath him. The hand on his erection worked harder as Cid shoved two fingers inside himself, the burn and pressure flaring up his spine as he crooked his fingers and pressed just right. He could not help thinking of how Vincent’s fingers would feel, longer, bigger. Cid came hard, with a whimper of Vincent’s name.
Cid stared up at the ceiling of his room, feeling hollow and frustrated. His seed was cooling on his stomach and he had just tossed one off while thinking about his (straight) best friend sans clothing.
“Fuck.” Cid said succinctly and rolled off the bed to get cleaned up.
XD-XP
Cid could feel eyes on his back, burning holes into his spine. He shrugged it off and went to help Peirson adjust the manifold alignments.
He figured out who must have been watching him about two hours later while walking down an otherwise empty corridor.
“Cid.” The voice came from behind him.
“Shit!” Cid jumped and spun around, “Vince! Don’t do that! Gonna gimmie a fuckin’ heart attack!”
“My apologies.” Vincent smirked and failed to look at all apologetic.
“Right.” Cid drawled trying to calm his racing heartbeat as he noticed how close Vincent was standing. The fast pulse of alarm skipped a beat, changed to a different tempo altogether and entirely failed to slow down at all, “What can I do fer ya?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” Vincent was frowning, looking a bit distracted, which was a bit odd. Vincent was always focused. Cid decided not to question anything that might get him out of the upcoming conversation faster.
“Oh yeah? About what?” Stay calm, keep your head, and whatever you do, do not think about how much you want to strip him naked and jump his bones.
… Fuck.
“About the…” Vincent paused mid-sentence, eyes glazing for a second before he shook his head, looking oddly confused, “About the other day when you walked in on me. I wanted to let you know that I understand it was an accident and I do not hold it against you.”
Hell yeah, a naked Vincent up against him, maybe pinning him to the wall right here? Mm, just like that.
“That’s great!” Oh, fuck, please do not let his voice crack. And do not look down. Pray that Vincent does not look down. “Anything else?”
“No, I…” Was Vincent… sniffing at him? He was. Exactly how augmented were Vincent’s senses anyway? Oh shit, he was doomed.
“Glad we’ve got this all cleared up. I gotta go now, Vince.” Cid babbled, desperate to get away before Vincent of the super nose clued into the tent Cid had pitched in his jeans, “Lotsa work to do. I’ll see ya later, alright?”
Vincent inhaled deeply and made a funny growling noise.
Cid bolted.
Vincent stared after him, still taking abnormally deep breaths as if striving to capture all of the pilots lingering scent, still growling softly. What had that been about?
XD-XP
Vincent was starting to get rather irritated at the current situation. Cid had been avoiding him since the ‘shower incident’. It was annoying. Vincent would have thought his friend horrified by his scars, his disfigurement, except he knew better. Cid was not that superficial. Vincent might have thought Cid embarrassed, but again, that was unlike the pilot. What was more, whenever Vincent had managed to corner Cid over the last few days the pheromones indicative of arousal had saturated the air around him. Had Cid taken a new lover? But no, Vincent had not smelled anyone on Cid but the man himself.
Still, it was aggravating how Vincent had been unable to get his friend alone recently. The main reason the slippery little bastard kept getting away was that whenever Vincent thought he had the man pinned down he got smacked in the face with a wave of sexual frustration. The sudden flood of arousal had shocked him so much the last time that Vincent has taken a step back in order to clear his head. Cid had bolted. The scene had repeated itself numerous times over the last few days.
Each time it happened Vincent grew more and more baffled, not a feeling he liked to admit to. He had tried to sort through the scent-information to the best of his ability, but he had been both helped and hindered in his efforts by the sympathetic responses that were brought up in Vincent himself. What was worse, his demons were far too interested in the way Cid smelled for the gunman’s comfort. It seemed as if the thing to do would be to focus entirely on his goal (talking to Cid) without letting his emotions or his demons reactions to Cid’s scent to distract him. Right. He was once a Turk. He could do this.
Vincent stalked off to hunt down a grumpy blond pilot.
After a few hours of futile searching however, Vincent was starting to wonder if he had gotten the wrong impression of Cid. Perhaps Cid really was disgusted by his appearance. But… that still did not explain how Cid could smell so much of arousal while Vincent was near.
Vincent decided to back off a little and just observe the situation more carefully. Over the next couple of days he stalked his friend, watching him from the shadows as Cid worked on the Highwind.
Cid was edgy at first, peering around as if he expected Vincent to swoop down on him at any moment. And there were times when the gunman was sorely tempted, but then something mechanical and horrifically complicated would require Cid’s full attention and the pilot would relax as he worked.
And Vincent watched him.
The ex-Turk had never devoted any great amount of time to studying his Avalanche companions, but while shadowing Cid Vincent learned some things that he never would have guessed about the pilot. Like, for instance, how Cid was freakishly flexible. Vincent had been watching his friend in fascinated shock as Cid folded and twisted his body into a startling variety of uncomfortable looking shapes as he worked on and in the guts of the airship. What was equally surprising was seeing most of the crew do similar things during his observations of their Captain. Apparently Cid had not been joking when he had told Vincent that one of his hiring criteria was the ability to ‘kiss your own ass goodbye in case of emergency’.
As he watched, Vincent continually sorted through the confusing scents he had picked up from Cid. Isolating and identifying each component of the scent Cid had released when Vincent was near. Lust-desire-want had been strongest, mixed with fear-shame-anger, and underneath it all was a tiny thread of hope-excitement. But even knowing what he had been picking up left Vincent horribly confused, because he did not know the why or who behind the emotions, he did not know which thoughts that had prompted them.
There was no avoiding it, he was going to have to talk to Cid about what, exactly, was going on between them. Vincent had a few guesses, but he could only know for certain if he talked to Cid.
Talk. To. Cid.
Vincent winced.
It was not as if talking to Cid was an unpleasant task, Vincent reflected. It was just that Cid quite obviously hated talking about himself in any real depth. Cid could carry on for hours about his mechanical genius and fighting prowess, but as soon as anything personal came up Cid shut down and ran off to find something he needed to fix now, okay-thanks-bye.
Well then, the only option left was to corner Cid and not let him escape this time. Vincent briefly contemplated the headache he was going to have. Cid tended to get louder the more desperate he got to avoid a conversation.
Vincent sighed and straightened his shoulders before stalking off to find a good ambush point to lie in wait for Cid. Who would have thought one of the loudest, most abrasive people Vincent had ever met would be so dammed hard to find.
Lurking as only a (former) Turk could, Vincent kept an eye out for his quarry as he haunted the hallway close to Cid’s private cabin.
Muttered curses alerted him to his targets approach, the voice preceding the familiar scents of hot metal and engine grease. They nearly covered the almost undetectable smell of smoke. Cid really did not smoke as much as he appeared to. Which should not have been surprising, his occupation made lit cigarettes stupid at best and suicidal at worst (sparks plus the large amounts of extremely flammable, combustible liquids and gasses found inside engines equals explodey doom) and if Cid had really been the chain-smoker he passed himself off as he never would have been able to keep up, let alone survive, the Meteor debacle. Cid did not usually smoke the cigarettes; most of the time he either held it in his lips unlighted, or waved it around in his hand. That was not to say that Cid never smoked, just that it was not often. When Vincent had realized how Cid had fooled everybody about his habit the gunman had been most amused.
The irate blond opening his cabin door pulled from Vincent of his musings on Cid’s idiosyncrasies. Vincent ghosted up behind his friend, only paying half attention to the peevish listing of the crew’s faults and foolishness. The lions share of the gunman’s attention was on how absolutely wonderful Cid smelled. That was, like metal and grease and smoke and tea, which Vincent never before would have called wonderful, but somehow when mixed with the smell of Cid, they were.
Vincent leaned in closer, only paying partial attention to Cid’s sudden silence as the pilot stiffened halfway through the doorway, alerted to Vincent’s intrusion on his personal space by the instinct developed through fighting for your life on a daily basis. Vincent drifted closer, all of the voices in his head silent for once as he tried to pin down that elusive something that was drawing him closer to Cid. Slowly, Cid turned around and found himself nose to chest with Vincent’s looming form.
Cid took a step back.
Vincent took a step forward.
The door to the Captain’s cabin swung shut behind them.
XD-XP
Cid had to remind himself to breath as he watched Vincent close the door to his quarters. The latch clicked into place like a released safety catch. Cid swallowed, Vincent’s searching crimson eyes never looked away from Cid’s face. The blond pilot struggled for his composure, but felt it slip away as Vincent stalked towards him.
Cid’s back hit the far wall next to his bunk with a thump, making Cid jump. He had not even realized that he had been backing up. So much for keeping it cool, Cid thought with a mental groan, there was no way Vincent would believe that nothing was going on now. Fuck, he was acting like some blond bimbo in a bad romance movie. Vincent paused, barely a foot from the pilot as Cid attempted to convince his body to relax and un-plaster itself from the wall.
“Highwind.” Vincent said, breaking the silence. Cid was unable to hold back a twitch at the sound of Vincent’s voice. Vincent watched him carefully as Cid stared back, eyes wild and desperately trying to find some part of Vincent to look at that would not drive him nuts with sexual frustration.
“Cid.” Vincent seemed to have gentled somehow, obviously sensing his friend’s distress, voice soft, “We should talk.”
“Y-yeah?” Cid cleared his throat, cursing silently at the crack in his voice, “What about, Vince?”
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Vincent asked without preamble. Cid gaped, pinned by glowing red eyes and knowing that he could not get away with denial. That did not mean that he would not try to though.
“Haven’t really been avoiding ya, Vince. I’ve just been busy, ‘s’all.” Cid tried a casual shrug, “The Highwind’s a new ‘ship. There’re all kindsa bugs and kinks to work out.”
“Cid.” Vincent said, voice flat, “We both know that’s not the real reason you’ve been running from me for the past week. That’s not even part of the reason. It’s an excuse, and a poor one. Now, I would like the truth, if you don’t mind.” Vincent’s eyes were blazing, full of repressed emotion that never showed in the mildly annoyed tones of his voice. Cid swallowed and licked his lips, missing the way Vincent’s gaze zeroed in on the action.
“You-” Cid coughed, eyes darting around in search of escape, “You don’t really wanna know that, Vince. It’s nothing important, and it’ll damn well pass on its own in a bit. So just fucking drop it, alright?”
“No.” Vincent said calmly, “I’m not going to drop it.”
“Fucking Hel, Vince!” Cid exploded, spiting curses, trying to drive the gunman away so he could make his escape, “Leave it alone! It’s none of your fucking business anyway!”
“It’s because of my scars.” Vincent interjected when Cid paused for breath. Cid’s face drained of colour as he froze, staring at Vincent again, “I understand if you find my disfigurement horrifying. I-”
A wave of sexual pheromones smacked Vincent in the face. The gunman stopped speaking abruptly, mouth still open, and with his next breath Vincent could taste Cid’s arousal on the air.
“Vince…” Cid scrambled for something, anything, to say that could salvage the situation. He took a step away from the wall and put a hand on Vincent’s arm, looking up at his friends face. Vincent’s eyes flared brightly with strong emotion (hurt? Anger? Cid could not tell) and Cid did not want his friend to be hurt by anything Cid said or did. If only Vincent had not brought up the scars! Why was it that his fucking hormones would not listen to reason? “Vince. I… it isn’t the scars, all right? Fuck, it’s… it’s something personal. I’ll get over it. I - Vince?”
Cid squawked as Vincent crowded him up against the wall and shoved his face into the crook of Cid’s neck. Strong hands curled around Cid’s biceps and hauled him up until he was at a more accessible height. Held more than a foot off the floor by a demon-possessed gunman, with said gunman’s nose nuzzling his neck just under his ear, it was probably no surprise that Cid was sporting an expression that conveyed his fear that Vincent had gone off the deep end. Cid was frozen, hanging rigid in Vincent’s grip, eyes closed against a blow that never came.
Okay then, Cid slowly relaxed, as Vincent did nothing more that shift his grip a little and sniff Cid’s shoulder. Vincent was not mad he was just…
Vincent licked Cid’s neck, nosing aside the collar of his pilot’s jacket to get at the sensitive hollow just below Cid’s ear. Cid gasped, tilting his head to give Vincent more room even as his mind whirled in confusion.
Right. So Vincent was not angry. He was just molesting Cid up against the wall of the Captain’s own quarters. All right then, Cid could deal with this.
“Vincent?” Cid started slowly, aware that he was in a very delicate position, “Something - oh fuck! - Something ya wanted to talk to me about, yeah?”
Vincent growled, and that felt real nice vibrating against the underside of Cid’s jaw. Cid swallowed, “So… so m-maybe ya wanna put me down an’ we can talk abou - Ah!”
There was a disapproving growl, followed by a confusing moment of rapid repositioning before Cid found himself in an entirely new predicament. Vincent had shifted things around so that he held Cid up by a solid grip on the underside of the pilot’s thighs. A single inch further up and Cid’s ass would have been in Vincent’s hands. This might have been of interest to the Cid if something else had not grabbed his attention by the throat. Vincent had pulled Cid’s legs up and apart, settling in between Cid’s thighs with a satisfied growl. Cid could not help but moan when Vincent’s groin pressed up against his own. Cid’s hips made tiny, instinctive movements as he tried vainly to remember how to talk.
“Vince… Vince - oh fuck - we - ah!” Cid threw his head back, stars exploding across his vision as Vincent thrust against the pinned pilot, growling happily and laying sucking bites on Cid’s neck that would later develop into truly spectacular marks.
And Cid gave in, threw in the metaphorical towel and made up his mind to enjoy the situation, sudden and unexpected as it may have been.
Shucking his gloves, Cid tangled his hands in Vincent’s hair and pulled the ex-Turks face up to kiss him for the first time. It was a rough kiss, with teeth that pressed just a bit too hard. It was messy and wet and far too deep to be anything less than pornographic.
It was perfect.
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Second Half
Hey check it out, my first two part post! ^_^