fic: "Not Really His Day," Cid/Vincent, PG12, for rubyshards
Title: Not Really His Day
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Author: emerald_embers
Rating: PG12
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction, squareenix own.
Pairing: Cid/Vincent
Warnings: Yaoi, bad language and references to het.
For: rubyshards; "Cid/Vincent; Deep down, Vincent's a conniving bastard. No emo-whiny-girly Vincent."
Round 2 - Final Fantasy 7 only.
Cid looked thoughtfully at the gold, limb-styled casing sat on his workshop bench before grumbling and prising open the sides so he could take a look at whatever had made the limb inflexible. Granted the bulk of it only existed as armour, but the claws had been designed as a secondary weapon rather than for aesthetics, and apparently Vincent had never let go of that Turk instinct to back oneself up with spare ammo, spare weapons, spare plans... "Picky bastard," was the pilot's preferred wording for Vincent's tendencies.
It wasn't that he disliked the man. Hell, by all means Vincent was an alright guy - smart too, and smart enough to keep most of his opinions to himself unless prompted which was a blessing beyond belief in Cid's world. No, Cid's problem was that he liked Vincent a little too much. In his pants. And given the second possibly misguided fling he was embarking on with Shera was going quite well, it was frustrating. Shera had lovely breasts and wore her glasses during sex which was so hot he could barely stand it, but the small lingering traces of bisexuality in him sang from the rooftops when Vincent turned up on his doorstep, rain drenched so that his clothes...
Yeah. That whole line of thought wasn't helping the situation, and certainly wasn't helping him fix the damned armour piece.
Vincent eventually made himself known again, coming through to the workshop with footsteps he'd deliberately made audible. It was creepy sometimes, his knack for stealth, the way he seemed to find shadows without paying attention and the way he had to concentrate to make noise if he wasn't in armour. Cool, though. "Tea?"
"No, busy," Was Cid's best diplomatic answer. Truth be told, Vincent made godawful tea - insipid, usually either lukewarm or scalding, and always tasting faintly of synthetic fruit. It wasn't just that Shera's tea had spoilt him either, given that Tifa's tea could knock the socks off most anyone. Maybe it was a girl thing, maybe he was just fussy.
"Have you had any luck working out what is wrong yet?"
"Only just started looking at the damn thing. What were you doing when it fucked up?"
Vincent smirked slightly before picking up the top half, looking down the forearm to the fingertips as though he were sighting something. "Putting it on. Went to sleep after it worked all day, woke up and the fingers wouldn't move."
"And it's definitely not your own arm messing up?"
Vincent flexed the accused limb by way of proof.
"Right. Still freaks me out you've started sleeping again. Feels wrong."
"Were you planning on sending me a wedding invitation?"
And bang. It figured Vincent hadn't travelled miles just to get his armour fixed by Cid, although the pilot wouldn't have put that past him either. The dark-haired man's smile was bloody offputting too, like a bear trap he'd put his foot in and was half an inch off triggering. One wrong move... "Never said we were getting hitched."
"You named your latest ship after her."
Cid raised both eyebrows in literal shock before narrowing them. "Okay, that's fucking creepy. I've not even flown that thing yet. How the hell did you know?"
Vincent rolled his eyes. "I've killed crime lords in their sleep. Finding out about an airship when it's been constructed outside any sort of storage and there are maybe four in the world isn't so hard."
"I reserve the right to think it's creepy," Cid grumbled, slightly disgruntled as he resumed tinkering with the bottom half of Vincent's armour piece. "I don't know what me 'n' Shera are gonna do. I just like having her around." Damnit, he was far too sober to be having this conversation.
"Do you think you'll make a good husband?"
"Yeah, why?"
Vincent went from a smile to a smirk. "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're attracted to me Mr Highwind.
Cid put down his tools and turned to face Vincent properly. "So?"
"So what if you were tempted to stray?"
"You offering?" Cid countered, a slow malignant side edging into Vincent's eyes that he really didn't like and hadn't exactly been counting on.
"Let's say I'm considering."
"Oh, don't you fucking start," He warned, the dark-haired man's expression easing slightly into something closer to human. "You had enough chances when were were after Sephiroth."
"Maybe I've changed," Vincent replied, reaching out and snapping Cid's goggles with an amused look. "Maybe I think you have."
"Maybe maybe maybe," Cid grunted before standing up and pinning Vincent back against the desk, pushing up against the dark-haired man. "Make up your mind and stop being such a fucking cocktease."
Vincent raised an eyebrow, maddeningly calm to the point of serenity as Cid ground their hips together. "A cocktease?"
"Mmph," Cid growled. "Bastard."
"As you wish," Vincent stated, taking Cid's arm and lifting it so he could move beneath the offending limb and away from the desk, heading for the door.
"Where're you off?"
"The bathroom, seeing as I need it," Vincent replied with a small, dismissive shrug. "I should think Shera has enough problems to deal with without my sleeping with her fiance."
"You -" Cid took a deep breath before letting fly with a torrent of abuse that would have made a Wutai-hardened naval soldier cry for his mother.
Vincent didn't flinch.
Being left impotent in more ways than one is an unpleasant business at the best of times. This was decidedly not the best of times, and therefore the experience rated only marginally higher than being kicked in the balls. Furious and with little else that he didn't personally value around to vent his anger on, Cid grabbed the armour casing for Vincent's arm and threw it across the room, though he instinctively winced when an unpleasant 'ping' sound came from the fallen item, along with several small metal pieces.
Figuring he might as well bite the bullet before Vincent returned with a gun and forced him to, Cid picked up the piece of armour, finding no dents in it, then had a look at the pieces that had fallen out. Small metal slivers, could be from anything - then he realised the fingers on the arm-piece had closed properly. Half in disbelief, Cid flexed the fingers of each, finding they all moved perfectly naturally, and realisation dawned. "That slippery, sneaky son of a bitch ex-Turk fuck!
Wielding the arm-piece with the full intention of smacking its possessor across the head with it, Cid stormed into the house. "Vincent Valentine, you are a fucking-"
"I hope you've not been badmouthing our guest for too long," Shera scolded before walking over to Cid with a cup of tea.
"Mmph," replied the pilot non-committally, watching for any change in Vincent's deadpan expression as the dark-haired man nursed his own cup of tea.
"Sorry that I shan't be staying long, Cid's just been fixing my armour for me." Straight delivery, old-fashioned Turk training having drummed acting skills into him, goddamnit. Vincent put down his cup of tea and went to leave, taking the armour piece back from Cid's stunned hand. "Thank you for a tea, Shera, and good luck with making a husband out of him." The door closed quietly behind him as though it had never been known to slam in its whole existence.
"I really hate that man," Cid sighed, feeling tired and boneless from the expenditure of so much angry energy.
"To be honest," Shera began, picking Vincent's cup up and carrying it over to the sink for washing up later, "He's the only one I thought you might run off with."
Cid thanked Lady Luck for her small mercy in making sure he'd swallowed his mouthful of tea before Shera spoke - a spittake would have just completed the day's list of cruelties. "What?"
"Well..." The woman looked bloody thoughtful, of all things. "Tifa's still into Cloud, Yuffie's into... materia, I guess. And it isn't as if he's not pretty enough to be your type."
"Okay, I take it back, I hate you more."
"Well, if you don't want your underwear washing it's fine by me," Shera replied before sitting down on the sofa and stretching out contentedly. "Can Shinra's best fighter pilot lower himself to rubbing a damsel in distress's feet?"
"Hardly a damsel," Cid muttered under his breath before sitting on the arm of the sofa an picking her feet up onto his lap. "I'd better be getting paid for this."
"Lots and lots of sex with Vincent."
"You what?" Cid asked, pinching the skin between her toes in warning.
"Just testing," She replied before letting go a good yawn and letting her eyes close.
The whole world is against me, Cid thought to himself. At least I get sex with a girl who wears glasses.
Shera opened one eye for a moment. "What do you think about contacts?"
The End!
Fandom: Final Fantasy 7
Author: emerald_embers
Rating: PG12
Disclaimer: Non-profit fanfiction, squareenix own.
Pairing: Cid/Vincent
Warnings: Yaoi, bad language and references to het.
For: rubyshards; "Cid/Vincent; Deep down, Vincent's a conniving bastard. No emo-whiny-girly Vincent."
Round 2 - Final Fantasy 7 only.
Cid looked thoughtfully at the gold, limb-styled casing sat on his workshop bench before grumbling and prising open the sides so he could take a look at whatever had made the limb inflexible. Granted the bulk of it only existed as armour, but the claws had been designed as a secondary weapon rather than for aesthetics, and apparently Vincent had never let go of that Turk instinct to back oneself up with spare ammo, spare weapons, spare plans... "Picky bastard," was the pilot's preferred wording for Vincent's tendencies.
It wasn't that he disliked the man. Hell, by all means Vincent was an alright guy - smart too, and smart enough to keep most of his opinions to himself unless prompted which was a blessing beyond belief in Cid's world. No, Cid's problem was that he liked Vincent a little too much. In his pants. And given the second possibly misguided fling he was embarking on with Shera was going quite well, it was frustrating. Shera had lovely breasts and wore her glasses during sex which was so hot he could barely stand it, but the small lingering traces of bisexuality in him sang from the rooftops when Vincent turned up on his doorstep, rain drenched so that his clothes...
Yeah. That whole line of thought wasn't helping the situation, and certainly wasn't helping him fix the damned armour piece.
Vincent eventually made himself known again, coming through to the workshop with footsteps he'd deliberately made audible. It was creepy sometimes, his knack for stealth, the way he seemed to find shadows without paying attention and the way he had to concentrate to make noise if he wasn't in armour. Cool, though. "Tea?"
"No, busy," Was Cid's best diplomatic answer. Truth be told, Vincent made godawful tea - insipid, usually either lukewarm or scalding, and always tasting faintly of synthetic fruit. It wasn't just that Shera's tea had spoilt him either, given that Tifa's tea could knock the socks off most anyone. Maybe it was a girl thing, maybe he was just fussy.
"Have you had any luck working out what is wrong yet?"
"Only just started looking at the damn thing. What were you doing when it fucked up?"
Vincent smirked slightly before picking up the top half, looking down the forearm to the fingertips as though he were sighting something. "Putting it on. Went to sleep after it worked all day, woke up and the fingers wouldn't move."
"And it's definitely not your own arm messing up?"
Vincent flexed the accused limb by way of proof.
"Right. Still freaks me out you've started sleeping again. Feels wrong."
"Were you planning on sending me a wedding invitation?"
And bang. It figured Vincent hadn't travelled miles just to get his armour fixed by Cid, although the pilot wouldn't have put that past him either. The dark-haired man's smile was bloody offputting too, like a bear trap he'd put his foot in and was half an inch off triggering. One wrong move... "Never said we were getting hitched."
"You named your latest ship after her."
Cid raised both eyebrows in literal shock before narrowing them. "Okay, that's fucking creepy. I've not even flown that thing yet. How the hell did you know?"
Vincent rolled his eyes. "I've killed crime lords in their sleep. Finding out about an airship when it's been constructed outside any sort of storage and there are maybe four in the world isn't so hard."
"I reserve the right to think it's creepy," Cid grumbled, slightly disgruntled as he resumed tinkering with the bottom half of Vincent's armour piece. "I don't know what me 'n' Shera are gonna do. I just like having her around." Damnit, he was far too sober to be having this conversation.
"Do you think you'll make a good husband?"
"Yeah, why?"
Vincent went from a smile to a smirk. "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're attracted to me Mr Highwind.
Cid put down his tools and turned to face Vincent properly. "So?"
"So what if you were tempted to stray?"
"You offering?" Cid countered, a slow malignant side edging into Vincent's eyes that he really didn't like and hadn't exactly been counting on.
"Let's say I'm considering."
"Oh, don't you fucking start," He warned, the dark-haired man's expression easing slightly into something closer to human. "You had enough chances when were were after Sephiroth."
"Maybe I've changed," Vincent replied, reaching out and snapping Cid's goggles with an amused look. "Maybe I think you have."
"Maybe maybe maybe," Cid grunted before standing up and pinning Vincent back against the desk, pushing up against the dark-haired man. "Make up your mind and stop being such a fucking cocktease."
Vincent raised an eyebrow, maddeningly calm to the point of serenity as Cid ground their hips together. "A cocktease?"
"Mmph," Cid growled. "Bastard."
"As you wish," Vincent stated, taking Cid's arm and lifting it so he could move beneath the offending limb and away from the desk, heading for the door.
"Where're you off?"
"The bathroom, seeing as I need it," Vincent replied with a small, dismissive shrug. "I should think Shera has enough problems to deal with without my sleeping with her fiance."
"You -" Cid took a deep breath before letting fly with a torrent of abuse that would have made a Wutai-hardened naval soldier cry for his mother.
Vincent didn't flinch.
Being left impotent in more ways than one is an unpleasant business at the best of times. This was decidedly not the best of times, and therefore the experience rated only marginally higher than being kicked in the balls. Furious and with little else that he didn't personally value around to vent his anger on, Cid grabbed the armour casing for Vincent's arm and threw it across the room, though he instinctively winced when an unpleasant 'ping' sound came from the fallen item, along with several small metal pieces.
Figuring he might as well bite the bullet before Vincent returned with a gun and forced him to, Cid picked up the piece of armour, finding no dents in it, then had a look at the pieces that had fallen out. Small metal slivers, could be from anything - then he realised the fingers on the arm-piece had closed properly. Half in disbelief, Cid flexed the fingers of each, finding they all moved perfectly naturally, and realisation dawned. "That slippery, sneaky son of a bitch ex-Turk fuck!
Wielding the arm-piece with the full intention of smacking its possessor across the head with it, Cid stormed into the house. "Vincent Valentine, you are a fucking-"
"I hope you've not been badmouthing our guest for too long," Shera scolded before walking over to Cid with a cup of tea.
"Mmph," replied the pilot non-committally, watching for any change in Vincent's deadpan expression as the dark-haired man nursed his own cup of tea.
"Sorry that I shan't be staying long, Cid's just been fixing my armour for me." Straight delivery, old-fashioned Turk training having drummed acting skills into him, goddamnit. Vincent put down his cup of tea and went to leave, taking the armour piece back from Cid's stunned hand. "Thank you for a tea, Shera, and good luck with making a husband out of him." The door closed quietly behind him as though it had never been known to slam in its whole existence.
"I really hate that man," Cid sighed, feeling tired and boneless from the expenditure of so much angry energy.
"To be honest," Shera began, picking Vincent's cup up and carrying it over to the sink for washing up later, "He's the only one I thought you might run off with."
Cid thanked Lady Luck for her small mercy in making sure he'd swallowed his mouthful of tea before Shera spoke - a spittake would have just completed the day's list of cruelties. "What?"
"Well..." The woman looked bloody thoughtful, of all things. "Tifa's still into Cloud, Yuffie's into... materia, I guess. And it isn't as if he's not pretty enough to be your type."
"Okay, I take it back, I hate you more."
"Well, if you don't want your underwear washing it's fine by me," Shera replied before sitting down on the sofa and stretching out contentedly. "Can Shinra's best fighter pilot lower himself to rubbing a damsel in distress's feet?"
"Hardly a damsel," Cid muttered under his breath before sitting on the arm of the sofa an picking her feet up onto his lap. "I'd better be getting paid for this."
"Lots and lots of sex with Vincent."
"You what?" Cid asked, pinching the skin between her toes in warning.
"Just testing," She replied before letting go a good yawn and letting her eyes close.
The whole world is against me, Cid thought to himself. At least I get sex with a girl who wears glasses.
Shera opened one eye for a moment. "What do you think about contacts?"
The End!