Leopard Print Loincloth: Part 2
Pairings: Cid/Vincent (FFVII)
Summary: We'll keep you safe, In the jungle forevermore, That's what friends are for... Vincent's a Jungle Native, and Cid's experiencing a bad case of CASTAWAY. What more do you need to know? >:D
Warnings: SO TOTALLY NOT PROOF READ. IN RAW FORMAT. DON'T BLAME US IF IT'S ILLEGIBLE. Also, this is an AU RP (duh!), and here be loincloths, sex between men, dirty talking, white western supremacy, swearing, angst, and yes, fictional animals were hurt in the production of this story. But were very, very tasty, so it's ok.
Disclaimer: Square Enix owns Cid and Vincent, the rest is sadly our own mad-cap invention. XD
Previous Chapters: Part One (illustrated),
Part Two
The next morning Cid wakes up early, blinking blearily. His mouth feels dry and his back hurts a little, but otherwise he feels very, very comfortable. He's half tempted to settle back down and sleep some more when memories of the day before come back to him. He looks at Vincent, then down at the amulet about his neck. For an insane moment, Cid wonders if he's got himself tied up in some native marital ceremony. The thought doesn't panic him as much as it should.
He does, however, become aware of the need to bathe. He hasn't washed properly since Vincent had carried him here. Sure, the warrior had used warm water and gentle hands to wash him wounds and skin, but it wasn't the same, and after their activities, Cid was itching to get clean. Surely their had to be a river or something nearby, if not the ocean itself? And speaking of water, he could certainly use a drink... God, what he wouldn't do for a cup of hot tea!
Cid pushes up, careful of his native friend, and stiffly fetches his clothes and goes to the cave mouth, looking outside and wondering which direction to go exploring in.
Vincent wakes up slower than he normally would, taking his time, and stretching sore muscles - very, very sore muscles. Last night, he had wanted another go, but right now, despite the pleasure that would inevitably entwine itself with it, there would be more pain than he'd like. Though Cid had liked what he'd done with his mouth - and he himself had liked it too - so maybe they could do that.
He rolls over, watching Cid dress with a small smile on his face, affectionate. However, when Cid steps outside, and doesn't come back in. He draws himself up, not bothering with his loincloth and instead wrapping up in a fur. Quietly, he goes to Cid's side, entwining his fingers with Cid's.
Cid gives Vincent a soft smile and squeezes his hand, then lets go to demonstrate his question. "Water?" He asks, and pretends to splash and bathe himself with imaginary water.
Vincent nods eagerly, and ducks back inside the cave to change into his loincloth and to take up his spear and satchel. He gives Cid another smile, and motions for him to follow, heading down the trail down the face of the mountain.
Cid follows after, careful to watch where they're going so that, hopefully, he can remember his way about the area and not get lost if he's ever on his own. He catches himself watching Vincent more often than the surroundings, and has to shake himself out of it.
He's ashamed at how quickly he starts to tire. He knows he's more fit that this, clearly his body still hasn't recovered 100%. He takes it easy, but tires not to slow Vincent down, not wanting to appear weak infront of the hunter, and hopes the water isn't too far away.
Vincent begins to notice Cid flagging, and carefully slows, and turns to grab Cid's hand as if to urge him on - but he keeps their pace even and careful.
Slowly, they emerge on dense foliage, hanging like a curtain from the canopy overhead, and sunlight filters through it from a hole in the treetops, and there's a quiet, steady roar, muted. Vincent draws Cid close, a hand outstretched to part the curtain. He gives him a secretive, excited smile, and slowly parts the vines and branches.
Behind them is pure, untouched beauty. Three waterfalls, the middle prominent, crash down on a crystal clear pool down below, and bright, vibrant colors erupt all around them, brighter for the white sunlight, flowers, lichens on the rocks in the stream, grass and trees. God could not have created anything more perfect and lovely than this.
Cid's eyes widen, his mouth parts, the wonder on his face evident. He steps slowly inside the beautiful alcove, reverent.
"...... Holy fuck."
Vincent's smile widens into an ecstatic grin, and he tugs on Cid's hand, urging him to come forward, into the light. Vincent lets go his hand, setting spear, satchel, and eventually loincloth aside, and wading into the water. He waves at the golden god standing agog in the grass. "Cid! Cid!"
Cid takes off his clothes save for the amulet, putting them near the water so he can give them a rough rinse-through later. The water is crisp and cool, pleasant, and feels sinfully good, purifying. He grins and wades his way over to Vincent, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
Vincent grins wickedly, taking Cid's hands and wading backwards into the deeper ends.
Cid lets himself be tugged out until his chest is half-way submerged before he plants his feet, and tugs Vincent in against him instead. The feeling of wet skin and clear water sliding and running silkily against each other is heavenly. Cid hums in satisfaction and lets his hands sink to Vincent's ass, grabbing a cheek each and leaning down for a kiss.
Vincent smiles into the kiss, meeting it eagerly, putting his arms around Cid's waist, his fingers raking up Cid's skin. He presses his lean body to Cid's broader one, enjoying the intimacy, the lack of inhibitions, all the closeness. He opens his mouth to Cid, his tongue pressing closer.
Cid pushes back against him, taking Vincent's submissiveness easily and returning the kiss, slow, deep and lazy. He feels himself start to grow hard against Vincent's thigh, and he rocks up against the hunter for a moment before suddenly lifting Vincent by his ass. Then without warning, he tosses Vincent back into the depths of the water, watching the pretty hunter splash down with a triumphant boyish grin.
Vincent squeals, and disappears under the water. He doesn't resurface - until small hands grab Cid around the waist and haul him under.
Cid half expects it but is still caught off guard and doesn't fight it, going under and grabbing Vincent in the water. He breaks the surface with a gasping laugh and a soaked pale creature caught in his arms. "Gotchye," he says with a triumphant grin, his fingers digging into Vincent's sides, tickling.
Vincent shrieks with laughter, writhing, drawing his arms in. He flails with his legs until he catches a foot behind Cid's ankle, and jerks the blond's legs out from under him, sharply. He presses down on Cid's shoulders to make sure he's good and dunked, and then swims away, quick as a fish, his pale body glinting in the water.
Cid comes up hacking up water.
"Fu-cking ba-s-tard!" he grouches good-naturedly, coughing and slowly making his way towards the native, intent on revenge. "Get yer skinny white ass back 'ere so's I can spank it proper!"
Vincent surfaces, just enough so his head can bob above the water, his eyes the only thing visible, smiling wickedly, hungrily. He dips back beneath the water and swims away again, circling the pool, eventually coming around to slip sleek figure-eights about Cid's legs, peaceful as a carp.
Cid smiles to himself, letting Vincent play as he enjoys the water, feeling his body loosen up under the gentle exercise of staying afloat. When he starts to wonder about Vincent's need for oxygen, he finally captures the hunter between his legs and pulls the man up.
"Show off," he mumbles at the watery black head.
Vincent gasps breathlessly, still smiling, and absently brushes his hair back. Without warning, he hauls Cid down, his hands on his neck, and crushes their mouths together happily.
Cid smiles happily into the kiss, returning it but only teasingly, keeping the kisses short and brief, toying with the hunter. He slowly floats them back towards the shore until he can sit down without risk of drowning, and pulls Vincent into his lap, his erection rubbing against the hunter's ass.
Vincent follows after mindlessly, drawn by Cid like he were magnetic, unable to pull away. When Cid's hardness presses between his cheeks, he makes an indecipherable noise, and pulls away. He takes Cid's hand up between his own, and pulls up his fingers. Gaping his mouth, tongue lolling, he sucks Cid's fingers into his mouth and makes a curious noise, his eyes just questioning. Do you want this...?
Cid groans and presses a heated, wet kiss to Vincent's temple.
"God, yer gonna undo me," he moans softly.
Vincent takes the kiss and the groaned words as permission, and lets go Cid's hand in favor of his solid chest, and begins to work his way down Cid's perfect, golden body, kissing, nipping, and outright biting and sucking at him. When he gets to Cid's cock, he takes it up in worshipful hands, and begins to lavish the long girth with kisses, all the way down to his balls, and below, taking his time, showing Cid exactly how much he adored him, loved him, revered him... though him beautiful... wanted him... how delicious he was...
Cid feels all the tension in his body flow out of him, and all the warmth suddenly pool into his groin. After the coolness of the water, the heat of Vincent's mouth is almost scalding. The touches are soft, slow, too sweet, and Cid swells readily in Vincent's slender hands.
"Oooooooohhhhh fuuuuuuck...." he groans, letting his large palms rest heavily in the thick, wet locks of black hair.
Vincent moans at the pressure, and finally lets Cid into his mouth, intent on coaxing forth the blond's orgasm - not simply snatching it away. He wants to enjoy this as much as he wants Cid to enjoy this. His hands go around Cid's fat cock, and the heavy sac beneath, manipulating both experimentally, his mouth a warm, wet pressure on Cid's dick, a gentle suction beneath that, Vincent's tongue clever and playful on him - winding, pressing, dipping.
Cid's never felt anything so wonderful or intense in all his life, his muscles trembling and flinching at all the sensations. Vincent's mouth is hot, teasing, coy on his dick, his perfect mouth stretched hard around the girth, mouthing it adoringly. Cid's cock throbs hard, aching, right from his balls up. How is it Vincent can undo him so goddamn easily...?
"Godfucking hell," Cid groans, fisting Vinent's hair harder, trying not to shove the man down on him and fuck his throat raw. It was blissful torture, rapturous agony. "God Vincent, fuck, feels so fucking good....!"
Slowly, Vincent begins to edge down Cid's impressive length, taking more, and then retreating, unintentionally beginning to bob his head in Cid's lap. He brings his hand up to one of Cid's, twisted in his hair, and closes his own over it with a moan, encouraging the blond to tighten his hold and do as he pleases with him.
Cid bows over, pressing his mouth to the top of Vincent's head, bestowing a soft kiss. Then he leans back and takes Vincent's cue, gently moving the hunter's head with his own hands, bobbing the native's head on his dick with more intent, setting a slow rhythm. The sheer experience of being in control, of using Vincent so wantonly, makes Cid dribble a hard load of precum onto the hunter's wet tongue with a groan of satisfaction.
Vincent makes a noise of curiosity and pleased surprise, delighted that Cid was using him and enjoying it. He submits to Cid's guidance, his natural dominance, and relaxes his throat as Cid begins to bob his head down further. Eventually, he knows, he's going to take the blond's entirety into his mouth - his throat, and shifts his position. He wriggles back some, but at the same time moves an arm about Cid's waist comfortably, his other hand beginning to work Cid up into his mouth, squeezing, pulling.
"Fuck baby yeah," Cid groans mindlessly, rocking up into the rhythm, his head falling back in ecstasy, the corded muscles in his neck standing out as his breathing picks up. He licks his lips and looks down, watching his dick sink in and out of the hunter's mouth, disappearing, then reappearing, wet and glistening, only to be solidly fisting by the strong hand.
"Jesus, Vincent, I aint gonna last long," he groans, and tugs Vincent up. "C'mere, come here, turn around, gimme yer legs."
Confused, Vincent stands in the water, his own cock half-swollen, and looks down on Cid, licking his lips succulently. He makes a noise of uncertainty, unsure of what this gesture meant. Did Cid not like the way he used his mouth? He seemed to. What was with the change?
Cid sees the uncertainty and doesn't want the moment ruined. In one fluid motion, he stands and grabs Vincent up, carrying them further out of the water onto soft grass. Then he lays Vincent down, gently, reverently, but doesn't follow, instead settling at the hunter's waist, and turns around, so his feet lie up near Vincent's head, and vice versa. He moves closer to Vincent's body with a wicked grin, his mouth clearly intent on Vincent's partially swollen length.
Vincent yelps at being so unceremoniously lifted and carried away. He's confused at first - until Cid's obvious intentions clue him in. He takes Cid back into his mouth, delicate hands going to Cid's thigh and again to his swelling cock. He's pleasantly surprised to discover that swallowing Cid is easier this way. He's not able to bob his head really, in this position, but the blond is definitely able to slip deeper, down his throat. He tries to coax Cid into thrusting, knowing it'll be good for the blond - for both of them.
Cid's happily surprised at how eagerly Vincent takes him back into his mouth. Clearly the hunter had no qualms about the act, and when Cid felt gentle hands urging him to move, he readily did so, thrusting gently, experimentally, inside Vincent's mouth, feeling himself breach closer and closer to the man's throat. He wondered if he dared force that on Vincent so soon. He'd have rather taken his time, but the way his balls were swelling, feeling heavy and tight, and his cock dribbled precum, Cid doubted he could draw things out much longer, and felt desperate for more, anything....
He takes Vincent's cock in his hand and gently fingers it a few times before licking down the length of it, then sucking on the head.
Vincent cries out softly around Cid's heavy dick, his hips involuntarily jerking up sharply, before settling into a gentle rhythm of rolling, rocking, thrusting up into Cid's hands and mouth. He could taste Cid's pleasure in his mouth, his sac so hard and swollen and tight... the blond was so close... he urged him on, desperate to bring Cid to the pinnacle.
Cid shudders, trying desperately to cling on, hold on, his thrusts becoming sharper, more wild. Then Vincent squeezed his balls just right and unable to help it, Cid snaps his hips forward, shoving himself down the hunter's virgin throat, and lost it, spilling thick strands of cum over and over, groaning loudly around Vincent's dick.
Vincent cries out sharply at the sudden violent intrusion, his hands going to Cid's thighs. He cranes his neck back and gasps in a breath through his nose, his throat spasming about Cid's throbbing dick. The sensation was... divine. Naturally. He'd never one done this, or contemplated this, but now that he was doing it... it was awesome. His breath caught in his throat, Cid's cock so massive, pulsing, plunging down into and filling his mouth... the smell and feel and warmth of him... all of it. He loved it. It was incredible, mind-altering, earth-shattering. Like losing his mind and not caring.
Cid groaned as he came, letting Vincent's cock slip wetly from his mouth and pressed his brow to the hunter's belly, shuddering as he spent himself down the tight, convulsing throat.
He finally fell limp, breathing hard, his head spinning with euphoria and endorphins. He felt so utterly good, relaxed, perfect. Cid presses a kiss to Vincent's belly.
Vincent's belly trembles beneath the kiss, his chest rising and expanding with hard breaths as Vincent let Cid's flagging cock slip free from his mouth. He lies panting beneath Cid, enjoying having the god's weight on him, the kiss to his belly making his heart swell.
He shoves Cid until he's lying on his back, and crawls up his body until he's nestled in against him, tight, his face buried in Cid's neck; he smiles to himself dumbly, sighing happily.
Cid lets Vincent manipulate him, sighing and still trying to catch his breath, to come down from how amazing his orgasm was. He finally looks down at the adoring figure curled up to him, more nymph than savage, and smiles dotingly. He runs a large hand over the pretty face, down wet locks and ribs and down to where Vincent's erection is, touching it briefly before moving on to the man's ass, lazily fingering the ring of muscle.
Vincent's breath hitches as Cid's big fingers play with him, pressing inside his tender hole. He turns his face deeper into Cid's neck, his breath hot and moist on Cid's wet, tanned skin. His arms tightens about Cid's chest.
"Hurt?" Cid asks, a possessive chuckle in his voice. He sounds more proud of the possibility than concerned, and slips a finger deep into the warm, soft inside, crooking it about.
Vincent whimpers, nodding and clutching Cid close but not denying him.
The burn and ache inside him is raw, but the pressure and intrusion feel good, and he's reminded of how good Cid had felt inside him last night. It had felt like Cid had filled him completely, so deep and thick, and the feel of his power, his raw animal strength as he rutted against him, held him close and tight to him, the smell of him, the feel of his warm, sticky skin... his tender insides roil and throb, flinching as his belly does at the memory, his dick coming alive at the memory, wanting it all over again.
At the painful mewl Vincent gives, Cid keeps his touch gentle, but neither does he stop, emboldened with having such a beautiful, wild creature curl so needily, wantingly against him and crave his touch and dominance. It made Cid feel good in a way that had his chest and throat tighten up.
"I'll always cherish this," he promises Vincent softly, kissing the damp head before using his other hand to fondle Vincent's erection, trapping the hunter between the dual points of pleasure, from front and back.
Vincent sobs, and shifts his hips so that he can rock against Cid's hands, between them, still clinging to the blond and mewling. Vincent hears the words, but doesn't need to understand them. He knows the tone of voice. It's loving, and gentle, soothing - the voice one would use on a loved one. The thought makes his heart swell, realising that his god loved him as much as he did him. His movements become more languid, more interested in having Cid touch him and be so gentle with him, with being so cherished, than with cumming; for now, it was just a nagging ache.
Cid keeps the touches light, lazy, careful especially of Vincent's ass after the rough sex the previous evening, and lack of lube today. He runs his fingers up the length of Vincent's cock, starting at the balls and slowly, firmly pulling up. He twists gently and presses in at random points, before stopping just beneath the head. Then he lets go and starts again from the base, pulling up, and again.. over and over again... maddening, teasing, as he probed Vincent's anus from behind.
Vincent keens, his cock drooling now, the thrusts of his hips growing more urgent, sharp. The ache is becoming more insistent now, encroaching on the pleasure he was flooded with by Cid's affection, attention, and mere presence. It keeps on building, building, his hips thrusting more abruptly, his breath panting against Cid's neck and shoulder, his fingers driving bruises into Cid's side, all his muscles taught and trembling until he finally reached his peak, his crescendo, and whimpered against Cid as he came at his command.
Cid presses another kiss to the top of the native's head as the man whimpers and comes, curling into Cid as if shy, or seeking an anchor against the overwhelming intensity of cumming.
"Shhh, shhh, let it out, I got you Vincent, yer so beautiful, cum fer me, little hunter."
His hips begin to slow, now simply rolling against Cid as he came, his orgasm slowly drifting from him, leaving him in a blissful state of hazy, nerveless euphoria, his body feeling weightless and utterly strengthless. He collapses with a huge sigh across Cid's chest, panting gently.
"Cid... Cid..." He whispers breathlessly. Love you, my god, mine... love you...
Cid fingers the last of Vincent's orgasm from him, gently milking the pearly drops from the hunter's penis, before slowly bringing his hand up to the man's mouth, offering up the mess and his fingers.
Vincent cradles his cheek on Cid's strong shoulder shyly, and reaches for the messy fingers to delicately draw them down to his mouth, lapping at them kittenishly. He still keeps himself curled close and lazy to Cid, breathing heavy.
Cid finally lets his finger inside Vincent slip free, gently patting the bottom and letting it stay there. He leans over and kisses Vincent's head, before playfully trying to capture Vincent's tongue with his fingers, smiling softly.
Vincent repays him with a nip to his fingers, and dropping his head back. He huffs a sigh, unwilling to move until made too, enjoying Cid, the sun, the breeze, and the soothing lull of the waterfall's roar.
Cid chuckles and pets Vincent's face a few times, also enjoying the serenity and comfort of having Vincent close. He lets them lie like that for a long time, caressing each other, half drifting in and out of sleep. Finally, he grows restless, and gives Vincent's bum a playful slap and gently pushes the hunter off him. He dives into the water and swims over to the nearest waterfall. He stands underneath and showers there, rubbing himself over to get rid of the worst of the dirt and sweat, his golden muscular body gleaming.
Vincent slinks after, slowly wading into water, and finally slipping under, swimming lazy laps around the pool, letting Cid do as he pleased while he just enjoyed the coolness of the water, playing by himself.
Cid showers then goes and fetches his clothes, bringing them into the water and scrubbing them cleans as best as he can. He hangs them over a branch to dry, knowing it wont take long it the warm weather. Then he explores their little alcove, sniffing at some of the leaves and flowers as he goes. After a while, he starts to pull some leaves off, collecting them.
Vincent bobs up, naked and unselfconscious, at Cid's side. Nonchalantly, he begins picking through the leaves in Cid's big hand, making a curious noise as he rifles through his stash.
Cid casts Vincent a sidelong look, wondering what the native is making of his leaf collection. Cid doesn't even know what the leaves are, but he's hoping some of them might be nice to boil and drink.
Vincent puts his hand over Cid's handful of leaves, and gives Cid a questioning look. Leaves? He asks. "Food?" He asks for Cid, pretending to eat the leaves, wondering if Cid were hungry enough to eat leaves.
Cid gets huffy, realising he's probably making a fool of himself.
"No. Te drink. Leaves, water, tea," he says, pretending to drink out of the cup of his hand.
Vincent brightens immediately, grinning, and takes Cid's hand, urging him to follow. Tea! He says excitedly. Tea, yes, tea! He starts to head for the edge of the pool, intent on climbing out, knowing exactly where to find the best leaves for a hot drink.
Cid stumbles after him, still clinging possessively to his leaves and scowling even though Vincent can't see.
Vincent hauls him only a little ways from the waterfalls, to a dense cluster of trees that look out of place. He turns then to Cid, and takes a leaf from his handful; he inhales deeply, and makes a sour face. He holds out the same leaf, wanting Cid to smell the bitterness. He reaches for another from the branches of the tree, and makes the same motion, this time snapping the fat leaf in half so that fragrant sap erupts from it's veins.
Cid reluctantly smells his leaf, not seeing what the fuss is about. That is, not until he smells the new leaf Vincent offers him, and suddenly it all becomes clear. Although his pride doesn't want to admit defeat, his palate certainly wants to be able to carry as many of the tea leaves back with him, so he finally dumps his useless collection and starts picking a bath of the new ones.
Vincent dashes off, but swiftly returns with his satchel, helpfully holding it out for Cid's haul, pleased the blond has taken such a shine to one of his favorite hot drinks.
Cid fills Vincent's satchel with the new leaves, finally getting over himself enough to give Vincent a small smile, pleased, grateful. He looks up at the sky then, judging the time, and then crouches down.
He draws the cluster of huts he know Vincent will understand to be his village.
"Vincent, yes?" He asks, drawing a stick figure with talk-lines coming out of his mouth hovering over the village. Cid hasn't forgotten his friends.
Vincent crouches down beside him, and as the picture takes shape, grows solemn. He nods. "Yes." He narrows his eyes at the sun as well, and hands Cid the satchel, making his way back to where he'd left his things, and begins to dress.
Cid feels a tension he hadn't known he was bearing relax then. Finally, he might be able to get some answers. He pushes aside the fact the village probably knows nothing, or knows news that wont be happy. Cid shrugs it aside though; no use worrying about that now. He'll find out soon enough.
He takes the bag of tea leaves and throws it over his shoulder, moving back to check on his clothes and watch Vincent get ready to leave.
Vincent ties on his loincloth, taking up his spear, and comes around to Cid. He gives him a tender, adoring smile, and takes up one of the large hands, cradling it to his chest. "Cid," he says affectionately.
Cid smiles and takes Vincent's hand in turn, putting it on his chest.
"Vincent."
Then he pulls the hunter in for a hug, nuzzling his shadowed cheek to Vincent's soft one. "Good luck. Don't stay up all night," he jokes weakly.
Vincent squeezes him tight, and then pulls away, smiling brightly. He signs "night", and then points to himself, indicating that he'll be back by tonight.
Cid nods that he understands, touching Vincent's face one more and then pulls away. Vincent is his only friend now, his only point of human contact. He feels a little bereft at the thought of the hunter leaving him.
Vincent gestures to ask if Cid knows the way back.
Cid nods. He's not 100% sure, but he's certain he'll be able to reach their home. Besides, the prospect of looking about their environment appeals to him. He's not opposed to exploring.
"See ye in a few hours 'en," he farewells.
Vincent hesitates, torn, but finally thrusts out his spear, wanting Cid to take it for his protection.
Cid blinks in surprise, taking the spear in puzzlement. He looks it over, feeling the weight and balance of it in his left hand. It seems like a good weapon. He gives Vincent a baffled look. Was Vincent not permitted to take weapons into the village?
Vincent pushes it at him. "Cid, Cid," he insists, trying to make it understood that it was for Cid's protection.
Cid nods, and pulls the spear in closer to him, showing Vincent he'll keep it. But he's still a little wary as to why. Now Vincent was weaponless. It frustrated him that he had no way to communicate this to Vincent, to tell him to be safe, or ask if he would be alright, or if Cid himself was in danger. He promised himself that when Vincent came back, and there was no news, he'd make more of an effort to teach Vincent English.
Vincent grins at him, and heads off empty-handed, and for all appearances unconcerned, forging his way to the path he barely remembered, into the village proper - to where the high priests and elders resided.
Cid watches Vincent go, and finally takes a seat on a rock, drying off, waiting for his clothes to do the same, and sulks with his spear.
Finally, when he's dressed, he starts to head back to the cave, taking his time to look around and not over exert himself. He smells a lot of leaves and plants along the way, wondering if he can find anything anyway that might be nice to mix with the tea leaves Vincent had provided. A few don't smell too bad, so he collects them for the hell of it, adding them to his satchel.
When he comes across some kind of peacock like bird, he freezes. The bird doesn't move, either not having seen him, or doesn't consider him a threat.
Cid thinks chicken would be very tasty for dinner.
He hefts the spear in his hand, wondering if it'll be better to jab, or throw it. The bird pecks at the ground, unconcerned.
Cid creeps closer, step by agonisingly slow step, until the bird looks up at him, finally acknowledging his presence.
Cid throws the spear, hard and fast.
Two hours later, he's sitting back in their cave, a pile of feathers on one side and a spitted bird slowly roasting over the fire. Several bowls of steaming water are setup around Cid too, each containing different leaves, steeping experimentally. All in all, Cid thinks he's done quite well.
He waits.
He practices with the spear. He tries his teas, throwing most of the bowls out, disappointed, save the tea from the leaves Vincent had given him, and the luxury of it more than makes up for the other failed bowls. He stretches, testing his injuries. He dozes. He practices with the spear some more, and takes a short walk around the perimeter of their cave, familiarising himself with the area.
As it grows dark and Vincent doesn't return, Cid helps himself to some of the bird and more tea. He starts poking around Vincent's belongings and finds a small pipe made of what looks to be bone. He practices on that a long while.
Finally, when the moon is high overhead, he falls asleep waiting for the hunter's return.
Vincent doesn't return that night. Or the next day.
Finally, towards the night of the second day, there's a fierce clatter, and guttural, pained human noises outside the cave.
Cid tries not to panic the next day when Vincent returns. Perhaps he had meant he'd come back the following night, after all. Besides, Cid was in no position to do anything. He'd wait, and if Vincent didn't return soon, then he might consider going after him.
Cid's sitting by the fire, watching water boil and lost in thought when he hears the noise outside the cave. He thinks it's a wild animal. He grabs up the spear and hurries to take a look.
Trembling, bleeding, bruised and burnt, Vincent grunts and keens as he struggles to right himself, lying prone and broken on the ground. Behind him trails a fat tan sack, singed, half of it's contents strewn behind him.
"Jesus!" Cid cries out, dropping the spear and hurrying to Vincent's side, hovering over him for a moment in despair, afraid to touch the injured man. Then he pushes aside his fear and, carefully as he can, bundles Vincent up and brings him inside. He settles Vincent down on the fur bed by the fire, and gently pets his face.
"Oh fuck, goddamn, what happened, what happened? Jesus Christ!"
Dumbly, Vincent rolls to his side and barely pushes himself up on an elbow, stiff, sore, his swelling mouth drooling blood and saliva. Half-blind with a black eye, two of his fingers broken, he uses his ring finger to draw in the dirt, shaky, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. It's as if he doesn't even notice Cid's there.
The hunter draws an angle, and tentatively draws "H M S" on it's side. He sketches something that's supposed to be a wave, and people in the water. On his last line, his finger skitters off and away as he abruptly topples forward, weak, hurt, and senseless.
Cid catches Vincent and carefully puts him back on the furs, but it's all instinctive. His mind is, instead, reeling at the message of the drawing. The HMS? There was a rescue ship? When? Now? Had it gone? Where his friends saved? Could he be saved....?
Cid looks down at Vincent and then abruptly gets up, desperate, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. This could be his only chance to get off this island, to go back to his old life. He had savings... he could get another boat, get his old job, go sailing again. He could come back and visit Vincent, surely.......
Cid looks over his shoulder, solemnly at Vincent. He could come back, but would Vincent still be alive? He was badly wounded. How? An accident? Unlikely. Cid had seen many injuries before. These looked purposefully inflicted. God, had Vincent's village turned their back on him entirely? The hunter had completely isolated himself for Cid. Vincent had given up his life to save Cid's.
How could he not do the same?
Cid lets his arms drop to his side, listless, and goes back to Vincent's side. He blinks away the tears he can feel in his eyes, his shoulders hunched as if protecting himself from the fantasy of the HMS at his back, beckoning, beckoning, and starts checking Vincent's wounds over, and goes to find the plants the native had used on him to help healing and pain.
When Vincent wakes, he does so slowly, his whole body throbbing with aches and pains, some parts stinging fiercely. His tongue is dry and heavy in his mouth, his lips chapped and split. It's hard to breathe; it feels like he had a full grown man lying on his chest, crushing him. He tries to open his eyes, gasping painfully, but can only open one enough to see out of, and even then it's gummy and dry. He can't smell anything, feel or hear anything - or rather his mind was so jumbled, caught between sleep and panic and a million other things, that he couldn't decipher any specific sensations outside of himself. He got a sense of darkness, and warmth, but didn't know if he'd collapsed in the wild, or made his way back to the cave - back to Cid. He had to tell him...
Cid's sitting near Vincent, too worked up to sleep. He comes closer when he sees Vincent stir, and gently brushes a hand down Vincent's cheek where it isn't bruised.
"Shhh, Vincent, it's Cid. Yer safe now. Here." Cid helps lift Vincent up in his arm and offers a bowl of water mixed with fragant sap to the hunter's lips.
Vincent weakly stays the bowl, but cannot deny Cid's support. "Friends... Cid, friends..." He croaks, throat bobbing heavily. He slumps against Cid, the best he can do, and brings a trembling hand to the dirt, beginning to draw his urgent message.
Cid shakes his head, his face becoming stern against the emotional pain, both at his frustration about not being able to seek his friends, the ship, his life... and at Vincent's earnest to pass on the message even in his condition.
"Water. Drink," he insists in a firm tone, pushing the bowl back to Vincent's mouth.
Again Vincent turns it away.
"No," he croaks. "Friends, Cid friends..." He says urgently, thinking that perhaps Cid couldn't understand him. He starts to write the three symbols the woman had shown him, in the dark, secretive, as he made good his escape. H M S. He clung to those images tightly, so that he'd never forget. There had been a black wall, in the water, scribed with these symbols. It sent out strange boats and fished star-people from the sea. They were looking for Cid - they were looking for Cid.
"No!" Cid snaps, putting the bowl down to angrily rub away the heartbreaking picture. Then he picks up the bowl and offers it again. "Water," he demands with a fierce look, denying the burn at the back of his eyes. "Vincent is Cid's friend. Vincent's hurt. Vincent will drink the fuckin' water."
Even with one eye, and confused, he can clearly read Cid's pain, his turmoil. Cid just wants to go home. He wants his friends. But he has an obligation to care for Vincent in turn - and that obligation is costing his happiness.
Vincent finally submits to drinking from the bowl, surprisingly raising a hand to help, coughing and sputtering slightly. When he finishes, he lays gasping against Cid, chest aching, and begins to draw again.
This time, he draws the shoreline, and his rocky outcropping. Beneath that, he draws a tethered boat. He stabs at it weakly. "Cid, Cid friends, yes... yes... yes..." He wishes he had the words to tell Cid,
I love you. I want you to be happy. If you stay, you'll hurt forever. Go. Go. You belong with gods. Go home. Please. If you love this child, you'll go, and be happy - if you stay, I know you'll come to hate me.
Cid helps Vincent drink, something easing inside him as the hunter does so. He lets Vincent draw the new picture, expecting it to be the one of the HMS again, only to see Vincent's showing him to his boat. Cid grimaces and shakes his head, this time gently rubbing it away.
"No. Cid stays with Vincent. Vincent needs Cid. Vincent gave everythin' up fer Cid. I can do the same. Yer a friend as much as any of 'em are. They're safe now. Yer not. I'll stay with you."
Cid smiles softly, sadly, and caressing the bruised face tenderly.
Frustrated, Vincent resorts to shoving at Cid, however weakly, pushing him to go. "No, no Cid... no... no... Cid's friends, Cid h-home," he says awkwardly, less familiar with that word. "Home, Cid," he insists. "Friends."
Cid lets Vincent weakly shove at him, easily able to resist in. He puts his hand over Vincent's chest - lightly - and brings their brows down together.
"Home." He states. "This is my home now. Cid's home is with Vincent."
Tears of hurt and frustration and desperation well up hot in Vincent's eyes, his breath catching on something that wanted to be a sob. He collapses back strengthlessly, panting, and after a moment, raises his hand to sign to Cid.
"Cid," he murmurs, touching the blond's chest awkwardly - hate, he said in his own tongue, not knowing it in Cid's, and presses his thumb between Cid's brows and tugs down, the way Cid might scowl. "Vincent," he says at last, touching his own chest. Then he parrots Cid, and begins to point at invisible people. "Byron, Thomas, Maria, Petra, Wills, Kenan. Cid friends. Cid home. No Vincent. No hurt Cid." He press a hand to himself, his actions growing sloppy as he grew more weary. "Vincent," he breathes, and then thumps an awkward fist over his heart, before reaching out and tenderly touching Cid's chest. "Cid." His hand slips away. Unable to do anymore for now, he murmurs in his own tongue, Vincent loves Cid. I love you. Just go.
Defiantly, Cid just lies down on Vincent's other side and tucks the slender hunter carefully into his arms, running gentle fingers down the side of the man's face, soothing, sending Vincent back into sleep.
"Shhh, I got you. Sleep. I'll look after you. My friends... They're either dead or safe. Either way, I can't do much for 'em. And I'd never forgive myself if I left ye like this. It's okay little hunter, don't worry yer pretty head none."
Cid kisses Vincent's brow, and continues to pet him tenderly.
"No... no..." He mumbles, tears finally slipping down his brutalised face. He gives up, his eyes falling shut, and sobs softly, murmuring nonsense, before finally succumbing to Cid's warmth and affection, the blond's gentle touches and soft words like a lullaby. Slowly he slips away, sucked under the tidal wave of pain and weariness into a war, dark place where none of it could touch him. His final thought was to Cid.
Please don't hate me for this.
When Vincent drifts off, Cid lets his own tears fall, giving himself only a moment of misery before berating himself silently. He tucks Vincent in carefully and gets up, making more medicine and ointment ready, treating more of Vincent's wounds and checking the bones he's snapped back into place and splinted are ok. He puts more wood on the fire, then takes Vincent in his arms and lies down, trying to get some sleep himself.
It's a long time before he can.
Summary: We'll keep you safe, In the jungle forevermore, That's what friends are for... Vincent's a Jungle Native, and Cid's experiencing a bad case of CASTAWAY. What more do you need to know? >:D
Warnings: SO TOTALLY NOT PROOF READ. IN RAW FORMAT. DON'T BLAME US IF IT'S ILLEGIBLE. Also, this is an AU RP (duh!), and here be loincloths, sex between men, dirty talking, white western supremacy, swearing, angst, and yes, fictional animals were hurt in the production of this story. But were very, very tasty, so it's ok.
Disclaimer: Square Enix owns Cid and Vincent, the rest is sadly our own mad-cap invention. XD
Previous Chapters: Part One (illustrated),
Part Two
The next morning Cid wakes up early, blinking blearily. His mouth feels dry and his back hurts a little, but otherwise he feels very, very comfortable. He's half tempted to settle back down and sleep some more when memories of the day before come back to him. He looks at Vincent, then down at the amulet about his neck. For an insane moment, Cid wonders if he's got himself tied up in some native marital ceremony. The thought doesn't panic him as much as it should.
He does, however, become aware of the need to bathe. He hasn't washed properly since Vincent had carried him here. Sure, the warrior had used warm water and gentle hands to wash him wounds and skin, but it wasn't the same, and after their activities, Cid was itching to get clean. Surely their had to be a river or something nearby, if not the ocean itself? And speaking of water, he could certainly use a drink... God, what he wouldn't do for a cup of hot tea!
Cid pushes up, careful of his native friend, and stiffly fetches his clothes and goes to the cave mouth, looking outside and wondering which direction to go exploring in.
Vincent wakes up slower than he normally would, taking his time, and stretching sore muscles - very, very sore muscles. Last night, he had wanted another go, but right now, despite the pleasure that would inevitably entwine itself with it, there would be more pain than he'd like. Though Cid had liked what he'd done with his mouth - and he himself had liked it too - so maybe they could do that.
He rolls over, watching Cid dress with a small smile on his face, affectionate. However, when Cid steps outside, and doesn't come back in. He draws himself up, not bothering with his loincloth and instead wrapping up in a fur. Quietly, he goes to Cid's side, entwining his fingers with Cid's.
Cid gives Vincent a soft smile and squeezes his hand, then lets go to demonstrate his question. "Water?" He asks, and pretends to splash and bathe himself with imaginary water.
Vincent nods eagerly, and ducks back inside the cave to change into his loincloth and to take up his spear and satchel. He gives Cid another smile, and motions for him to follow, heading down the trail down the face of the mountain.
Cid follows after, careful to watch where they're going so that, hopefully, he can remember his way about the area and not get lost if he's ever on his own. He catches himself watching Vincent more often than the surroundings, and has to shake himself out of it.
He's ashamed at how quickly he starts to tire. He knows he's more fit that this, clearly his body still hasn't recovered 100%. He takes it easy, but tires not to slow Vincent down, not wanting to appear weak infront of the hunter, and hopes the water isn't too far away.
Vincent begins to notice Cid flagging, and carefully slows, and turns to grab Cid's hand as if to urge him on - but he keeps their pace even and careful.
Slowly, they emerge on dense foliage, hanging like a curtain from the canopy overhead, and sunlight filters through it from a hole in the treetops, and there's a quiet, steady roar, muted. Vincent draws Cid close, a hand outstretched to part the curtain. He gives him a secretive, excited smile, and slowly parts the vines and branches.
Behind them is pure, untouched beauty. Three waterfalls, the middle prominent, crash down on a crystal clear pool down below, and bright, vibrant colors erupt all around them, brighter for the white sunlight, flowers, lichens on the rocks in the stream, grass and trees. God could not have created anything more perfect and lovely than this.
Cid's eyes widen, his mouth parts, the wonder on his face evident. He steps slowly inside the beautiful alcove, reverent.
"...... Holy fuck."
Vincent's smile widens into an ecstatic grin, and he tugs on Cid's hand, urging him to come forward, into the light. Vincent lets go his hand, setting spear, satchel, and eventually loincloth aside, and wading into the water. He waves at the golden god standing agog in the grass. "Cid! Cid!"
Cid takes off his clothes save for the amulet, putting them near the water so he can give them a rough rinse-through later. The water is crisp and cool, pleasant, and feels sinfully good, purifying. He grins and wades his way over to Vincent, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
Vincent grins wickedly, taking Cid's hands and wading backwards into the deeper ends.
Cid lets himself be tugged out until his chest is half-way submerged before he plants his feet, and tugs Vincent in against him instead. The feeling of wet skin and clear water sliding and running silkily against each other is heavenly. Cid hums in satisfaction and lets his hands sink to Vincent's ass, grabbing a cheek each and leaning down for a kiss.
Vincent smiles into the kiss, meeting it eagerly, putting his arms around Cid's waist, his fingers raking up Cid's skin. He presses his lean body to Cid's broader one, enjoying the intimacy, the lack of inhibitions, all the closeness. He opens his mouth to Cid, his tongue pressing closer.
Cid pushes back against him, taking Vincent's submissiveness easily and returning the kiss, slow, deep and lazy. He feels himself start to grow hard against Vincent's thigh, and he rocks up against the hunter for a moment before suddenly lifting Vincent by his ass. Then without warning, he tosses Vincent back into the depths of the water, watching the pretty hunter splash down with a triumphant boyish grin.
Vincent squeals, and disappears under the water. He doesn't resurface - until small hands grab Cid around the waist and haul him under.
Cid half expects it but is still caught off guard and doesn't fight it, going under and grabbing Vincent in the water. He breaks the surface with a gasping laugh and a soaked pale creature caught in his arms. "Gotchye," he says with a triumphant grin, his fingers digging into Vincent's sides, tickling.
Vincent shrieks with laughter, writhing, drawing his arms in. He flails with his legs until he catches a foot behind Cid's ankle, and jerks the blond's legs out from under him, sharply. He presses down on Cid's shoulders to make sure he's good and dunked, and then swims away, quick as a fish, his pale body glinting in the water.
Cid comes up hacking up water.
"Fu-cking ba-s-tard!" he grouches good-naturedly, coughing and slowly making his way towards the native, intent on revenge. "Get yer skinny white ass back 'ere so's I can spank it proper!"
Vincent surfaces, just enough so his head can bob above the water, his eyes the only thing visible, smiling wickedly, hungrily. He dips back beneath the water and swims away again, circling the pool, eventually coming around to slip sleek figure-eights about Cid's legs, peaceful as a carp.
Cid smiles to himself, letting Vincent play as he enjoys the water, feeling his body loosen up under the gentle exercise of staying afloat. When he starts to wonder about Vincent's need for oxygen, he finally captures the hunter between his legs and pulls the man up.
"Show off," he mumbles at the watery black head.
Vincent gasps breathlessly, still smiling, and absently brushes his hair back. Without warning, he hauls Cid down, his hands on his neck, and crushes their mouths together happily.
Cid smiles happily into the kiss, returning it but only teasingly, keeping the kisses short and brief, toying with the hunter. He slowly floats them back towards the shore until he can sit down without risk of drowning, and pulls Vincent into his lap, his erection rubbing against the hunter's ass.
Vincent follows after mindlessly, drawn by Cid like he were magnetic, unable to pull away. When Cid's hardness presses between his cheeks, he makes an indecipherable noise, and pulls away. He takes Cid's hand up between his own, and pulls up his fingers. Gaping his mouth, tongue lolling, he sucks Cid's fingers into his mouth and makes a curious noise, his eyes just questioning. Do you want this...?
Cid groans and presses a heated, wet kiss to Vincent's temple.
"God, yer gonna undo me," he moans softly.
Vincent takes the kiss and the groaned words as permission, and lets go Cid's hand in favor of his solid chest, and begins to work his way down Cid's perfect, golden body, kissing, nipping, and outright biting and sucking at him. When he gets to Cid's cock, he takes it up in worshipful hands, and begins to lavish the long girth with kisses, all the way down to his balls, and below, taking his time, showing Cid exactly how much he adored him, loved him, revered him... though him beautiful... wanted him... how delicious he was...
Cid feels all the tension in his body flow out of him, and all the warmth suddenly pool into his groin. After the coolness of the water, the heat of Vincent's mouth is almost scalding. The touches are soft, slow, too sweet, and Cid swells readily in Vincent's slender hands.
"Oooooooohhhhh fuuuuuuck...." he groans, letting his large palms rest heavily in the thick, wet locks of black hair.
Vincent moans at the pressure, and finally lets Cid into his mouth, intent on coaxing forth the blond's orgasm - not simply snatching it away. He wants to enjoy this as much as he wants Cid to enjoy this. His hands go around Cid's fat cock, and the heavy sac beneath, manipulating both experimentally, his mouth a warm, wet pressure on Cid's dick, a gentle suction beneath that, Vincent's tongue clever and playful on him - winding, pressing, dipping.
Cid's never felt anything so wonderful or intense in all his life, his muscles trembling and flinching at all the sensations. Vincent's mouth is hot, teasing, coy on his dick, his perfect mouth stretched hard around the girth, mouthing it adoringly. Cid's cock throbs hard, aching, right from his balls up. How is it Vincent can undo him so goddamn easily...?
"Godfucking hell," Cid groans, fisting Vinent's hair harder, trying not to shove the man down on him and fuck his throat raw. It was blissful torture, rapturous agony. "God Vincent, fuck, feels so fucking good....!"
Slowly, Vincent begins to edge down Cid's impressive length, taking more, and then retreating, unintentionally beginning to bob his head in Cid's lap. He brings his hand up to one of Cid's, twisted in his hair, and closes his own over it with a moan, encouraging the blond to tighten his hold and do as he pleases with him.
Cid bows over, pressing his mouth to the top of Vincent's head, bestowing a soft kiss. Then he leans back and takes Vincent's cue, gently moving the hunter's head with his own hands, bobbing the native's head on his dick with more intent, setting a slow rhythm. The sheer experience of being in control, of using Vincent so wantonly, makes Cid dribble a hard load of precum onto the hunter's wet tongue with a groan of satisfaction.
Vincent makes a noise of curiosity and pleased surprise, delighted that Cid was using him and enjoying it. He submits to Cid's guidance, his natural dominance, and relaxes his throat as Cid begins to bob his head down further. Eventually, he knows, he's going to take the blond's entirety into his mouth - his throat, and shifts his position. He wriggles back some, but at the same time moves an arm about Cid's waist comfortably, his other hand beginning to work Cid up into his mouth, squeezing, pulling.
"Fuck baby yeah," Cid groans mindlessly, rocking up into the rhythm, his head falling back in ecstasy, the corded muscles in his neck standing out as his breathing picks up. He licks his lips and looks down, watching his dick sink in and out of the hunter's mouth, disappearing, then reappearing, wet and glistening, only to be solidly fisting by the strong hand.
"Jesus, Vincent, I aint gonna last long," he groans, and tugs Vincent up. "C'mere, come here, turn around, gimme yer legs."
Confused, Vincent stands in the water, his own cock half-swollen, and looks down on Cid, licking his lips succulently. He makes a noise of uncertainty, unsure of what this gesture meant. Did Cid not like the way he used his mouth? He seemed to. What was with the change?
Cid sees the uncertainty and doesn't want the moment ruined. In one fluid motion, he stands and grabs Vincent up, carrying them further out of the water onto soft grass. Then he lays Vincent down, gently, reverently, but doesn't follow, instead settling at the hunter's waist, and turns around, so his feet lie up near Vincent's head, and vice versa. He moves closer to Vincent's body with a wicked grin, his mouth clearly intent on Vincent's partially swollen length.
Vincent yelps at being so unceremoniously lifted and carried away. He's confused at first - until Cid's obvious intentions clue him in. He takes Cid back into his mouth, delicate hands going to Cid's thigh and again to his swelling cock. He's pleasantly surprised to discover that swallowing Cid is easier this way. He's not able to bob his head really, in this position, but the blond is definitely able to slip deeper, down his throat. He tries to coax Cid into thrusting, knowing it'll be good for the blond - for both of them.
Cid's happily surprised at how eagerly Vincent takes him back into his mouth. Clearly the hunter had no qualms about the act, and when Cid felt gentle hands urging him to move, he readily did so, thrusting gently, experimentally, inside Vincent's mouth, feeling himself breach closer and closer to the man's throat. He wondered if he dared force that on Vincent so soon. He'd have rather taken his time, but the way his balls were swelling, feeling heavy and tight, and his cock dribbled precum, Cid doubted he could draw things out much longer, and felt desperate for more, anything....
He takes Vincent's cock in his hand and gently fingers it a few times before licking down the length of it, then sucking on the head.
Vincent cries out softly around Cid's heavy dick, his hips involuntarily jerking up sharply, before settling into a gentle rhythm of rolling, rocking, thrusting up into Cid's hands and mouth. He could taste Cid's pleasure in his mouth, his sac so hard and swollen and tight... the blond was so close... he urged him on, desperate to bring Cid to the pinnacle.
Cid shudders, trying desperately to cling on, hold on, his thrusts becoming sharper, more wild. Then Vincent squeezed his balls just right and unable to help it, Cid snaps his hips forward, shoving himself down the hunter's virgin throat, and lost it, spilling thick strands of cum over and over, groaning loudly around Vincent's dick.
Vincent cries out sharply at the sudden violent intrusion, his hands going to Cid's thighs. He cranes his neck back and gasps in a breath through his nose, his throat spasming about Cid's throbbing dick. The sensation was... divine. Naturally. He'd never one done this, or contemplated this, but now that he was doing it... it was awesome. His breath caught in his throat, Cid's cock so massive, pulsing, plunging down into and filling his mouth... the smell and feel and warmth of him... all of it. He loved it. It was incredible, mind-altering, earth-shattering. Like losing his mind and not caring.
Cid groaned as he came, letting Vincent's cock slip wetly from his mouth and pressed his brow to the hunter's belly, shuddering as he spent himself down the tight, convulsing throat.
He finally fell limp, breathing hard, his head spinning with euphoria and endorphins. He felt so utterly good, relaxed, perfect. Cid presses a kiss to Vincent's belly.
Vincent's belly trembles beneath the kiss, his chest rising and expanding with hard breaths as Vincent let Cid's flagging cock slip free from his mouth. He lies panting beneath Cid, enjoying having the god's weight on him, the kiss to his belly making his heart swell.
He shoves Cid until he's lying on his back, and crawls up his body until he's nestled in against him, tight, his face buried in Cid's neck; he smiles to himself dumbly, sighing happily.
Cid lets Vincent manipulate him, sighing and still trying to catch his breath, to come down from how amazing his orgasm was. He finally looks down at the adoring figure curled up to him, more nymph than savage, and smiles dotingly. He runs a large hand over the pretty face, down wet locks and ribs and down to where Vincent's erection is, touching it briefly before moving on to the man's ass, lazily fingering the ring of muscle.
Vincent's breath hitches as Cid's big fingers play with him, pressing inside his tender hole. He turns his face deeper into Cid's neck, his breath hot and moist on Cid's wet, tanned skin. His arms tightens about Cid's chest.
"Hurt?" Cid asks, a possessive chuckle in his voice. He sounds more proud of the possibility than concerned, and slips a finger deep into the warm, soft inside, crooking it about.
Vincent whimpers, nodding and clutching Cid close but not denying him.
The burn and ache inside him is raw, but the pressure and intrusion feel good, and he's reminded of how good Cid had felt inside him last night. It had felt like Cid had filled him completely, so deep and thick, and the feel of his power, his raw animal strength as he rutted against him, held him close and tight to him, the smell of him, the feel of his warm, sticky skin... his tender insides roil and throb, flinching as his belly does at the memory, his dick coming alive at the memory, wanting it all over again.
At the painful mewl Vincent gives, Cid keeps his touch gentle, but neither does he stop, emboldened with having such a beautiful, wild creature curl so needily, wantingly against him and crave his touch and dominance. It made Cid feel good in a way that had his chest and throat tighten up.
"I'll always cherish this," he promises Vincent softly, kissing the damp head before using his other hand to fondle Vincent's erection, trapping the hunter between the dual points of pleasure, from front and back.
Vincent sobs, and shifts his hips so that he can rock against Cid's hands, between them, still clinging to the blond and mewling. Vincent hears the words, but doesn't need to understand them. He knows the tone of voice. It's loving, and gentle, soothing - the voice one would use on a loved one. The thought makes his heart swell, realising that his god loved him as much as he did him. His movements become more languid, more interested in having Cid touch him and be so gentle with him, with being so cherished, than with cumming; for now, it was just a nagging ache.
Cid keeps the touches light, lazy, careful especially of Vincent's ass after the rough sex the previous evening, and lack of lube today. He runs his fingers up the length of Vincent's cock, starting at the balls and slowly, firmly pulling up. He twists gently and presses in at random points, before stopping just beneath the head. Then he lets go and starts again from the base, pulling up, and again.. over and over again... maddening, teasing, as he probed Vincent's anus from behind.
Vincent keens, his cock drooling now, the thrusts of his hips growing more urgent, sharp. The ache is becoming more insistent now, encroaching on the pleasure he was flooded with by Cid's affection, attention, and mere presence. It keeps on building, building, his hips thrusting more abruptly, his breath panting against Cid's neck and shoulder, his fingers driving bruises into Cid's side, all his muscles taught and trembling until he finally reached his peak, his crescendo, and whimpered against Cid as he came at his command.
Cid presses another kiss to the top of the native's head as the man whimpers and comes, curling into Cid as if shy, or seeking an anchor against the overwhelming intensity of cumming.
"Shhh, shhh, let it out, I got you Vincent, yer so beautiful, cum fer me, little hunter."
His hips begin to slow, now simply rolling against Cid as he came, his orgasm slowly drifting from him, leaving him in a blissful state of hazy, nerveless euphoria, his body feeling weightless and utterly strengthless. He collapses with a huge sigh across Cid's chest, panting gently.
"Cid... Cid..." He whispers breathlessly. Love you, my god, mine... love you...
Cid fingers the last of Vincent's orgasm from him, gently milking the pearly drops from the hunter's penis, before slowly bringing his hand up to the man's mouth, offering up the mess and his fingers.
Vincent cradles his cheek on Cid's strong shoulder shyly, and reaches for the messy fingers to delicately draw them down to his mouth, lapping at them kittenishly. He still keeps himself curled close and lazy to Cid, breathing heavy.
Cid finally lets his finger inside Vincent slip free, gently patting the bottom and letting it stay there. He leans over and kisses Vincent's head, before playfully trying to capture Vincent's tongue with his fingers, smiling softly.
Vincent repays him with a nip to his fingers, and dropping his head back. He huffs a sigh, unwilling to move until made too, enjoying Cid, the sun, the breeze, and the soothing lull of the waterfall's roar.
Cid chuckles and pets Vincent's face a few times, also enjoying the serenity and comfort of having Vincent close. He lets them lie like that for a long time, caressing each other, half drifting in and out of sleep. Finally, he grows restless, and gives Vincent's bum a playful slap and gently pushes the hunter off him. He dives into the water and swims over to the nearest waterfall. He stands underneath and showers there, rubbing himself over to get rid of the worst of the dirt and sweat, his golden muscular body gleaming.
Vincent slinks after, slowly wading into water, and finally slipping under, swimming lazy laps around the pool, letting Cid do as he pleased while he just enjoyed the coolness of the water, playing by himself.
Cid showers then goes and fetches his clothes, bringing them into the water and scrubbing them cleans as best as he can. He hangs them over a branch to dry, knowing it wont take long it the warm weather. Then he explores their little alcove, sniffing at some of the leaves and flowers as he goes. After a while, he starts to pull some leaves off, collecting them.
Vincent bobs up, naked and unselfconscious, at Cid's side. Nonchalantly, he begins picking through the leaves in Cid's big hand, making a curious noise as he rifles through his stash.
Cid casts Vincent a sidelong look, wondering what the native is making of his leaf collection. Cid doesn't even know what the leaves are, but he's hoping some of them might be nice to boil and drink.
Vincent puts his hand over Cid's handful of leaves, and gives Cid a questioning look. Leaves? He asks. "Food?" He asks for Cid, pretending to eat the leaves, wondering if Cid were hungry enough to eat leaves.
Cid gets huffy, realising he's probably making a fool of himself.
"No. Te drink. Leaves, water, tea," he says, pretending to drink out of the cup of his hand.
Vincent brightens immediately, grinning, and takes Cid's hand, urging him to follow. Tea! He says excitedly. Tea, yes, tea! He starts to head for the edge of the pool, intent on climbing out, knowing exactly where to find the best leaves for a hot drink.
Cid stumbles after him, still clinging possessively to his leaves and scowling even though Vincent can't see.
Vincent hauls him only a little ways from the waterfalls, to a dense cluster of trees that look out of place. He turns then to Cid, and takes a leaf from his handful; he inhales deeply, and makes a sour face. He holds out the same leaf, wanting Cid to smell the bitterness. He reaches for another from the branches of the tree, and makes the same motion, this time snapping the fat leaf in half so that fragrant sap erupts from it's veins.
Cid reluctantly smells his leaf, not seeing what the fuss is about. That is, not until he smells the new leaf Vincent offers him, and suddenly it all becomes clear. Although his pride doesn't want to admit defeat, his palate certainly wants to be able to carry as many of the tea leaves back with him, so he finally dumps his useless collection and starts picking a bath of the new ones.
Vincent dashes off, but swiftly returns with his satchel, helpfully holding it out for Cid's haul, pleased the blond has taken such a shine to one of his favorite hot drinks.
Cid fills Vincent's satchel with the new leaves, finally getting over himself enough to give Vincent a small smile, pleased, grateful. He looks up at the sky then, judging the time, and then crouches down.
He draws the cluster of huts he know Vincent will understand to be his village.
"Vincent, yes?" He asks, drawing a stick figure with talk-lines coming out of his mouth hovering over the village. Cid hasn't forgotten his friends.
Vincent crouches down beside him, and as the picture takes shape, grows solemn. He nods. "Yes." He narrows his eyes at the sun as well, and hands Cid the satchel, making his way back to where he'd left his things, and begins to dress.
Cid feels a tension he hadn't known he was bearing relax then. Finally, he might be able to get some answers. He pushes aside the fact the village probably knows nothing, or knows news that wont be happy. Cid shrugs it aside though; no use worrying about that now. He'll find out soon enough.
He takes the bag of tea leaves and throws it over his shoulder, moving back to check on his clothes and watch Vincent get ready to leave.
Vincent ties on his loincloth, taking up his spear, and comes around to Cid. He gives him a tender, adoring smile, and takes up one of the large hands, cradling it to his chest. "Cid," he says affectionately.
Cid smiles and takes Vincent's hand in turn, putting it on his chest.
"Vincent."
Then he pulls the hunter in for a hug, nuzzling his shadowed cheek to Vincent's soft one. "Good luck. Don't stay up all night," he jokes weakly.
Vincent squeezes him tight, and then pulls away, smiling brightly. He signs "night", and then points to himself, indicating that he'll be back by tonight.
Cid nods that he understands, touching Vincent's face one more and then pulls away. Vincent is his only friend now, his only point of human contact. He feels a little bereft at the thought of the hunter leaving him.
Vincent gestures to ask if Cid knows the way back.
Cid nods. He's not 100% sure, but he's certain he'll be able to reach their home. Besides, the prospect of looking about their environment appeals to him. He's not opposed to exploring.
"See ye in a few hours 'en," he farewells.
Vincent hesitates, torn, but finally thrusts out his spear, wanting Cid to take it for his protection.
Cid blinks in surprise, taking the spear in puzzlement. He looks it over, feeling the weight and balance of it in his left hand. It seems like a good weapon. He gives Vincent a baffled look. Was Vincent not permitted to take weapons into the village?
Vincent pushes it at him. "Cid, Cid," he insists, trying to make it understood that it was for Cid's protection.
Cid nods, and pulls the spear in closer to him, showing Vincent he'll keep it. But he's still a little wary as to why. Now Vincent was weaponless. It frustrated him that he had no way to communicate this to Vincent, to tell him to be safe, or ask if he would be alright, or if Cid himself was in danger. He promised himself that when Vincent came back, and there was no news, he'd make more of an effort to teach Vincent English.
Vincent grins at him, and heads off empty-handed, and for all appearances unconcerned, forging his way to the path he barely remembered, into the village proper - to where the high priests and elders resided.
Cid watches Vincent go, and finally takes a seat on a rock, drying off, waiting for his clothes to do the same, and sulks with his spear.
Finally, when he's dressed, he starts to head back to the cave, taking his time to look around and not over exert himself. He smells a lot of leaves and plants along the way, wondering if he can find anything anyway that might be nice to mix with the tea leaves Vincent had provided. A few don't smell too bad, so he collects them for the hell of it, adding them to his satchel.
When he comes across some kind of peacock like bird, he freezes. The bird doesn't move, either not having seen him, or doesn't consider him a threat.
Cid thinks chicken would be very tasty for dinner.
He hefts the spear in his hand, wondering if it'll be better to jab, or throw it. The bird pecks at the ground, unconcerned.
Cid creeps closer, step by agonisingly slow step, until the bird looks up at him, finally acknowledging his presence.
Cid throws the spear, hard and fast.
Two hours later, he's sitting back in their cave, a pile of feathers on one side and a spitted bird slowly roasting over the fire. Several bowls of steaming water are setup around Cid too, each containing different leaves, steeping experimentally. All in all, Cid thinks he's done quite well.
He waits.
He practices with the spear. He tries his teas, throwing most of the bowls out, disappointed, save the tea from the leaves Vincent had given him, and the luxury of it more than makes up for the other failed bowls. He stretches, testing his injuries. He dozes. He practices with the spear some more, and takes a short walk around the perimeter of their cave, familiarising himself with the area.
As it grows dark and Vincent doesn't return, Cid helps himself to some of the bird and more tea. He starts poking around Vincent's belongings and finds a small pipe made of what looks to be bone. He practices on that a long while.
Finally, when the moon is high overhead, he falls asleep waiting for the hunter's return.
Vincent doesn't return that night. Or the next day.
Finally, towards the night of the second day, there's a fierce clatter, and guttural, pained human noises outside the cave.
Cid tries not to panic the next day when Vincent returns. Perhaps he had meant he'd come back the following night, after all. Besides, Cid was in no position to do anything. He'd wait, and if Vincent didn't return soon, then he might consider going after him.
Cid's sitting by the fire, watching water boil and lost in thought when he hears the noise outside the cave. He thinks it's a wild animal. He grabs up the spear and hurries to take a look.
Trembling, bleeding, bruised and burnt, Vincent grunts and keens as he struggles to right himself, lying prone and broken on the ground. Behind him trails a fat tan sack, singed, half of it's contents strewn behind him.
"Jesus!" Cid cries out, dropping the spear and hurrying to Vincent's side, hovering over him for a moment in despair, afraid to touch the injured man. Then he pushes aside his fear and, carefully as he can, bundles Vincent up and brings him inside. He settles Vincent down on the fur bed by the fire, and gently pets his face.
"Oh fuck, goddamn, what happened, what happened? Jesus Christ!"
Dumbly, Vincent rolls to his side and barely pushes himself up on an elbow, stiff, sore, his swelling mouth drooling blood and saliva. Half-blind with a black eye, two of his fingers broken, he uses his ring finger to draw in the dirt, shaky, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. It's as if he doesn't even notice Cid's there.
The hunter draws an angle, and tentatively draws "H M S" on it's side. He sketches something that's supposed to be a wave, and people in the water. On his last line, his finger skitters off and away as he abruptly topples forward, weak, hurt, and senseless.
Cid catches Vincent and carefully puts him back on the furs, but it's all instinctive. His mind is, instead, reeling at the message of the drawing. The HMS? There was a rescue ship? When? Now? Had it gone? Where his friends saved? Could he be saved....?
Cid looks down at Vincent and then abruptly gets up, desperate, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. This could be his only chance to get off this island, to go back to his old life. He had savings... he could get another boat, get his old job, go sailing again. He could come back and visit Vincent, surely.......
Cid looks over his shoulder, solemnly at Vincent. He could come back, but would Vincent still be alive? He was badly wounded. How? An accident? Unlikely. Cid had seen many injuries before. These looked purposefully inflicted. God, had Vincent's village turned their back on him entirely? The hunter had completely isolated himself for Cid. Vincent had given up his life to save Cid's.
How could he not do the same?
Cid lets his arms drop to his side, listless, and goes back to Vincent's side. He blinks away the tears he can feel in his eyes, his shoulders hunched as if protecting himself from the fantasy of the HMS at his back, beckoning, beckoning, and starts checking Vincent's wounds over, and goes to find the plants the native had used on him to help healing and pain.
When Vincent wakes, he does so slowly, his whole body throbbing with aches and pains, some parts stinging fiercely. His tongue is dry and heavy in his mouth, his lips chapped and split. It's hard to breathe; it feels like he had a full grown man lying on his chest, crushing him. He tries to open his eyes, gasping painfully, but can only open one enough to see out of, and even then it's gummy and dry. He can't smell anything, feel or hear anything - or rather his mind was so jumbled, caught between sleep and panic and a million other things, that he couldn't decipher any specific sensations outside of himself. He got a sense of darkness, and warmth, but didn't know if he'd collapsed in the wild, or made his way back to the cave - back to Cid. He had to tell him...
Cid's sitting near Vincent, too worked up to sleep. He comes closer when he sees Vincent stir, and gently brushes a hand down Vincent's cheek where it isn't bruised.
"Shhh, Vincent, it's Cid. Yer safe now. Here." Cid helps lift Vincent up in his arm and offers a bowl of water mixed with fragant sap to the hunter's lips.
Vincent weakly stays the bowl, but cannot deny Cid's support. "Friends... Cid, friends..." He croaks, throat bobbing heavily. He slumps against Cid, the best he can do, and brings a trembling hand to the dirt, beginning to draw his urgent message.
Cid shakes his head, his face becoming stern against the emotional pain, both at his frustration about not being able to seek his friends, the ship, his life... and at Vincent's earnest to pass on the message even in his condition.
"Water. Drink," he insists in a firm tone, pushing the bowl back to Vincent's mouth.
Again Vincent turns it away.
"No," he croaks. "Friends, Cid friends..." He says urgently, thinking that perhaps Cid couldn't understand him. He starts to write the three symbols the woman had shown him, in the dark, secretive, as he made good his escape. H M S. He clung to those images tightly, so that he'd never forget. There had been a black wall, in the water, scribed with these symbols. It sent out strange boats and fished star-people from the sea. They were looking for Cid - they were looking for Cid.
"No!" Cid snaps, putting the bowl down to angrily rub away the heartbreaking picture. Then he picks up the bowl and offers it again. "Water," he demands with a fierce look, denying the burn at the back of his eyes. "Vincent is Cid's friend. Vincent's hurt. Vincent will drink the fuckin' water."
Even with one eye, and confused, he can clearly read Cid's pain, his turmoil. Cid just wants to go home. He wants his friends. But he has an obligation to care for Vincent in turn - and that obligation is costing his happiness.
Vincent finally submits to drinking from the bowl, surprisingly raising a hand to help, coughing and sputtering slightly. When he finishes, he lays gasping against Cid, chest aching, and begins to draw again.
This time, he draws the shoreline, and his rocky outcropping. Beneath that, he draws a tethered boat. He stabs at it weakly. "Cid, Cid friends, yes... yes... yes..." He wishes he had the words to tell Cid,
I love you. I want you to be happy. If you stay, you'll hurt forever. Go. Go. You belong with gods. Go home. Please. If you love this child, you'll go, and be happy - if you stay, I know you'll come to hate me.
Cid helps Vincent drink, something easing inside him as the hunter does so. He lets Vincent draw the new picture, expecting it to be the one of the HMS again, only to see Vincent's showing him to his boat. Cid grimaces and shakes his head, this time gently rubbing it away.
"No. Cid stays with Vincent. Vincent needs Cid. Vincent gave everythin' up fer Cid. I can do the same. Yer a friend as much as any of 'em are. They're safe now. Yer not. I'll stay with you."
Cid smiles softly, sadly, and caressing the bruised face tenderly.
Frustrated, Vincent resorts to shoving at Cid, however weakly, pushing him to go. "No, no Cid... no... no... Cid's friends, Cid h-home," he says awkwardly, less familiar with that word. "Home, Cid," he insists. "Friends."
Cid lets Vincent weakly shove at him, easily able to resist in. He puts his hand over Vincent's chest - lightly - and brings their brows down together.
"Home." He states. "This is my home now. Cid's home is with Vincent."
Tears of hurt and frustration and desperation well up hot in Vincent's eyes, his breath catching on something that wanted to be a sob. He collapses back strengthlessly, panting, and after a moment, raises his hand to sign to Cid.
"Cid," he murmurs, touching the blond's chest awkwardly - hate, he said in his own tongue, not knowing it in Cid's, and presses his thumb between Cid's brows and tugs down, the way Cid might scowl. "Vincent," he says at last, touching his own chest. Then he parrots Cid, and begins to point at invisible people. "Byron, Thomas, Maria, Petra, Wills, Kenan. Cid friends. Cid home. No Vincent. No hurt Cid." He press a hand to himself, his actions growing sloppy as he grew more weary. "Vincent," he breathes, and then thumps an awkward fist over his heart, before reaching out and tenderly touching Cid's chest. "Cid." His hand slips away. Unable to do anymore for now, he murmurs in his own tongue, Vincent loves Cid. I love you. Just go.
Defiantly, Cid just lies down on Vincent's other side and tucks the slender hunter carefully into his arms, running gentle fingers down the side of the man's face, soothing, sending Vincent back into sleep.
"Shhh, I got you. Sleep. I'll look after you. My friends... They're either dead or safe. Either way, I can't do much for 'em. And I'd never forgive myself if I left ye like this. It's okay little hunter, don't worry yer pretty head none."
Cid kisses Vincent's brow, and continues to pet him tenderly.
"No... no..." He mumbles, tears finally slipping down his brutalised face. He gives up, his eyes falling shut, and sobs softly, murmuring nonsense, before finally succumbing to Cid's warmth and affection, the blond's gentle touches and soft words like a lullaby. Slowly he slips away, sucked under the tidal wave of pain and weariness into a war, dark place where none of it could touch him. His final thought was to Cid.
Please don't hate me for this.
When Vincent drifts off, Cid lets his own tears fall, giving himself only a moment of misery before berating himself silently. He tucks Vincent in carefully and gets up, making more medicine and ointment ready, treating more of Vincent's wounds and checking the bones he's snapped back into place and splinted are ok. He puts more wood on the fire, then takes Vincent in his arms and lies down, trying to get some sleep himself.
It's a long time before he can.