Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Fate Worse Than Death ❯ This is My Rifle... ( Chapter 9 )

This is more smut than it is funny but I figured it all balances out.

 

Enjoy!!

Chapter 9: This is My Rifle…

 

The ground continued to tremble as the three men and lion wolf looked around them in surprise. What was going on? Was it an earthquake?

 

Off in the distance, the cloud of dust was getting closer. The ground began to shake more violently, Vincent grabbing onto the more solid pilot for support.

 

“What the hell?” Cloud questioned aloud, glancing about in astonishment.

 

The dust plume got closer and suddenly a shape began to take form… that of a man running as fast as his feet would carry him. Within seconds, the face was visible. It was Reeve.

 

“It's not legal yet!! I signed nothing! It's not legal yet!” the dark-haired man screamed, dressed in nothing but his underwear. He plowed into the blond swordsman, knocking Cloud to the ground, but kept on going. Reeve spared the two men and Nanaki not a glance. He tore a rut in the ground with the force of his feet as he continued to yell the same phrases over and over, eyes wide with terror.

 

Nanaki started to bark excitedly, as if he were truly a canine. He took off after the fleeing ex-executive. “I just can't help myself!!” called out the lion wolf as he followed Reeve, yipping as if the man were a postal carrier.

 

“Where does he think he's going?” Cid asked, wrinkling his brow. He watched as the lion wolf disappeared on the horizon with Reeve. “Wutai is an island.”

 

“The ground is shaking and getting worse…” murmured Vincent quietly. “It almost feels like a-“

 

Cid's eyes widened perceptibly. “Stampede!!” screamed the pilot suddenly. He dove into the cargo bay and pulled Vincent with him, out of the way.

 

The pummeled Cloud was left to his own devices.

 

Moments later a herd of rabid fangirls and boys went running by, screaming for Reeve to come back and that they only wanted to play. Cid could almost swear that he saw a red-head in the mix that looked remarkably like Reno. However, he wouldn't place money on that.

 

And running a few feet behind the rabid stampede was a gun-toting Elena. She was firing shots into the air, still trying to get the fanpeople to leave her newest husband alone. He hadn't been trained properly yet.

 

As the mob passed, the blond swordsman was left face down on the ground, settled in his own little Cloud-shaped hole. The herd had stampeded him into the soil. His body twitched slightly.

 

“Let's get the hell up out of here while we still can!” Cid declared, ignoring the fate of the blond swordsman. Vincent agreed.

 

“Screw the others! I've got a serious case of blue balls!”

 

“And I know just the cure.” The pilot smirked with a meaningful lick of his lips.

 

Quickly, the two men ran inside the Highwind and closed the cargo bay before Cloud could even move. Within moments, the airship was in the air and heading for sights unknown.

 

A spiky head slowly lifted itself up from the dirt and spat out the dark brown soil. He was starting to get used to the earthy flavor. He watched with despair as the Highwind pulled away with the object of his wet dreams on board. All that planning for naught. Cloud sighed.

 

“Snooky-bear!!” cooed a very familiar deep voice. It sent chills down his spine… chills of a Tifa-nature. Though it wasn't the dark-haired martial artist.

 

Frantically the swordsman started pawing at the ground. Perhaps if he dug hard and fast enough, he could get to the other side of the world. Where it was safe and stalker-free.

 

“My yellow snooky-bear, I finally found you!” Barret exclaimed with glee.

 

Cloud dug into the ground. Freedom… so beyond his grasp… There was no hope for him… he was doomed.

 

“DOOMED!!!” screamed the blond at the top of his voice. He shook his fists at the heavens convinced that all above was against him.

 

* * *

 

A low thud echoed throughout the empty corridors of the airship Highwind as Cid pushed Vincent up against a wall and devoured his mouth hungrily. The pilot thrust his tongue inside and bit at the gunman's lips, his body feeling hot as if he were burning. He pressed a thigh between that of the dark-haired man's and groaned as a hardness rubbed against his clothed limb.

 

Vincent was no less affected. He wrapped both arms around the pilot and pulled him as close as he was able. He ground his hips into Cid's and moaned at the pleasurable feelings that simple action sent through his body.

 

The pilot reached around and traced a heavy finger down the gunman's back and Vincent arched into his touch. They were moving at a feverish pace, anxious to relieve the aching tension within their bodies that had been building for quite some time.

 

“I want to take you right here,” Cid moaned in between fierce kisses.

 

Vincent whimpered with his declaration, rubbed his groin harder on the shorter man's thigh and sighed with the wonderful friction. He longed to just give in and throw his legs up around the body of the well muscled man pressed up against him. However, the vulnerability of their position made him think twice. He didn't want any interruptions this time around.

 

“My room is closest,” the gunman whispered in a seductive tone. His crimson eyes gleamed with sexual intent “I can fuck you there.”

 

Cid paused in his ravishing and slowly started pulling Vincent with him towards the gunman's room. Just down this hallway and to the right and it should be right there… suddenly he stopped and the gunman crashed into him.

 

“Uh, nope,” said the pilot, turning to face the dark-haired man and raising a hand. “I believe I will be doing the screwing, thank you very much.”

 

Vincent laughed and patted the blond's head as he pushed past him and moved towards his door. “You are so funny, Cid.”

 

The pilot started to follow after him but at a contemplative pace. “It wasn't a joke. I'm on top,” insisted Cid.

 

“You see,” said Vincent as he pulled out the key to his room and began to unlock the door. “That is where you are wrong. My room, my rules.” He pushed open the door and gestured inside. Cid didn't move.

 

“Fine. Then we will go to my room,” answered the pilot stubbornly shaking his head.

 

Vincent sighed with exasperation and reached out, grabbed the pilot's arm and pulled him inside before he said another word. The blond stumbled, and the gunman took the opportunity to shut the door and lean up against it. He crossed his arms and stretched seductively.

 

The gunman narrowed his gaze on the pilot and licked his lips slowly, teasingly, eyeing the blond with a hungry look. “I don't think I can wait that long,” he murmured in a husky voice.

 

The sound went straight to Cid's groin, and he groaned with the effect it had on him. He made a decision and pounced. The door rattled as he pressed the gunman up against it and started divesting him of his clothes. He would play along for now…

 

Black slacks were pushed to the floor, black shoes kicked to the side. A scarf was thrown to the wind along with a dress shirt and gun holster.

 

“Oooh, yes, Cid,” moaned the dark-haired man. “Harder! Harder!”

 

The pilot paused as he ran his hands up the smooth planes of the ex-Turk's chest. He cocked his head to the side and regarded the gunman with a bemused air. “I haven't even started yet…”

 

Vincent smiled. “I was practicing,” he said, before he pushed the pilot away and leapt on top of him. They crashed to the floor with Vincent straddling his hips, wearing nothing save his crimson and black gun boxers.

 

The gunman eyed the delicious feast below him as he undid the metal clasps of his golden claw and took the weapon off. He had learned several months ago that the thing was detachable but having grown used to the weight, rarely took it off. His hand now free, the ex-Turk was ready to ravish the pilot.

 

With a grin, Vincent leaned forward and started nibbling on the pilot's neck as he began to pull his clothes off piece by piece. Cid was no less busy. One hand cupped the gunman's ass and massaged the globe of flesh while the other pinched an already peaked nipple. It had been far too long for the both of them.

 

Vincent laughed as he moved to pull off the pilot's blue and black airplane boxers. Each it seemed was a man of his career. Cid helped by trying to get off the gunman's boxers as well. After a confusion of limbs and tangle of clothing, the dark-haired man managed to kneel between the pilot's naked thighs. He marveled at the impressive arousal that jutted from a nest of blond curls.

 

“Ooh, I'll bet this feels good going in,” purred the dark-haired man as he wrapped his fingers around Cid's turgid flesh. The pilot moaned with the sensation and unconsciously bucked up into the gunman's hand.

 

“Why don't you climb on and see?” the Captain asked.

 

“All in good time,” promised the gunman. “But you first, of course.”

 

Vincent leaned forward and kissed a dark nipple, tasting that scent that he had come to recognize as belonging to the pilot alone. The bud hardened beneath his lips and he rolled it around on his tongue. He could hear the pilot suck in a breath as a hand buried itself in his long, dark hair.

 

The gunman smiled as he began to work his way downwards, kissing and licking, occasionally leaving little marks along the way. His marks of possession as he liked to think of them as.

 

“You are just teasing me,” moaned the pilot as he writhed against the gunman above him. He thrust his hips upward, seeking smooth, hot skin to rub his aching flesh against. He was successful.

 

Vincent lowered his head to Cid's groin and breathed a breath of hot air over the man's already dripping arousal. The pilot whimpered in response.

 

“Never let it be said that I can't please a man,” the ex-Turk promised before he enveloped the turgid flesh before him.

 

Cid nearly screamed when he felt the hot, wet cavern wrap around him. The sensations were almost too much for him to bear. A tongue scraped along the underside of his flesh even as a slim, long-fingered hand cupped the round balls of flesh and fondled them gently. Vincent teased him with his talented tongue and Cid could only writhe beneath him.

 

“You're going to end this before it even starts,” moaned the pilot finally.

 

Vincent released his shaft with a pop and smacked his lips. “I suppose you are right. Come.”

 

He stood up and offered a hand down to the pilot who accepted it gratefully. The blond was pulled up from the floor then pushed towards the bed. He collapsed onto it gratefully, surprised by the softness of the bed itself. Vincent moved towards his dresser and dug around in the top drawer until he found what he was looking for. Cid watched him curiously.

 

The gunman pulled out a small bottle and tossed it towards the pilot who caught it effortlessly.

 

“Bubblegum flavored?” the blond questioned with a raised eyebrow.

 

The gunman shrugged, his face flaming with embarrassment. That was the last scent that the store had. After all, he had procured the bottle around Valentine's Day. All the good flavors were gone.

 

Vincent began to make his way back towards the bed, stepping over and on top of clothes. His crimson eyes met that of Cid's and gleamed seductively. He grinned as he eyed the muscular figure of the pilot. He licked his lips with anticipation.

 

He moved forward fluidly, making every movement seductive. Suddenly, he stubbed his toe on something beneath him and he hissed with the pain, tripped over another odd object and crashed to the ground rather violently, the whole room giving a small shake.

 

“Vince?” asked Cid, peeking over the edge of the bed concerned.

 

The dark-haired man popped his head upwards. “I'm fine!” he declared getting to his feet. He frowned as he peered down at the floor and picked through the mess.

 

“Hm,” he began. “I wonder how this got here?” Vincent held up the object that had tripped him.

 

“I thought you got rid of that years ago?” questioned Cid with another raised eyebrow.

 

Suddenly, the gunman grinned wildly. “Hey Cid,” laughed Vincent. “Check this out!” He twirled the Death Penalty rifle in his hand as he began to march in cadence.

 

“This is my rifle, this is my gun. This is for fighting and this…” The gunman grabbed his dripping erection and hissed with the sensation. “This is for fun!!” he giggled uncharacteristically and Cid couldn't help but join in the laughter.

 

Suddenly Vincent stopped giggling and his eyes flashed. He growled and pounced on top of the pilot. He had waited long enough.

 

FINALLY, GET IT ON!!! screamed Chaos in his head. The other demons started cheering as well. After all, Vincent's life was their only form of entertainment.

 

The gunman straddled Cid's legs and leaned forwards just enough to envelop the blond in another searing hot kiss. Their erections rubbed against each other, eliciting moans from both men. The pilot reached around with both arms and grasped the dark-haired man's ass. He squeezed the globes of flesh gently before snaking a sneaky finger around and tracing down between the cheeks until he found the pink entrance. Cid stroked it and pulled a seductive moan from the gunman above him.

 

Vincent reached down and tweaked a peaked nipple even as he moved to suck on the pilot's neck, leaving yet another mark of owning.

 

“Vince…” moaned the pilot aloud. “It's been too long. Let's just fuck already. We can do the lovey dovey stuff later.”

 

The dark-haired man chuckled as he pulled himself up and started to dig around in the sheets for the bottle of oil he had tossed there earlier. Finally, his fingers closed around the bottle and he snapped off the lid with one finger, pouring the sickly sweet-smelling oil into his hands before he put down the bottle, letting it slide down off the pilot's chest into the sheets.

 

Cid wrinkled up his nose. “Gods, Vin, that stuff reeks!”

 

Vincent shrugged. “It's either this or nothing. If you want nothing then I'm on top!”

 

The pilot grinned suddenly at this. That meant HE got to screw the gunman if he agreed to the pink confection of oil. “It's the sweetest smell in the world.”

 

Vincent rolled his eyes and moved backwards just enough until Cid's proud and jutting turgid flesh sat before him. The ex-Turk licked his lips even as he wrapped an oil-slicked hand around the pilot's arousal. Cid groaned with the feeling and unconsciously bucked up into the touch. He groped around for the oil and hurriedly poured some into his own hand.

 

As Vincent teased him to near madness with his extremely talented hands, Cid got to work preparing the ex-Turk for what was to come. He oiled up a finger and slipped it slowly into the gunman's tight entrance. He gasped when he felt the squeezing around just the finger and knew that soon it would be something much more sensitive, and it would feel so damn good.

 

“Damn,” cursed Vincent in a quiet voice. He pushed his ass backwards onto the finger, instinctively pressing onto the finger. He wanted more. “Add another,” urged the gunman, ready for more.

 

Cid complied, adding in a second finger and scissoring motion to stretch the gunman. He reached in as deep as he could go, looking for the sensitive gland that would make the gunman coo.

 

He knew he had found it when Vincent sucked in a breath and hissed as his grip reflexively tightened around him.

 

“Enough,” moaned the gunman. “I can't take anymore.” He raised himself up on his knees and position himself over Cid's dripping arousal. The pilot put his hands on the gunman's hips to steady him as Vincent slowly lowered himself downwards onto the pilot's hardness.

 

Cid bit his lip when he felt the beginning stages of the warm heat beginning to wrap around his cock. “You are so damn tight,” panted the pilot as his eyes rolled back into his head. He wanted to thrust upwards so badly but he was willing to let the gunman run the show.

 

Vincent moaned seductively as he felt himself filled by the pilot's engorged member. Finally, he was seated on top of Cid and the pilot was completely encased within his warm sheath.

 

The blond gripped onto Vincent's hips so tightly he was sure that he would leave a remark. “So gooood…” hissed Cid languidly, giving an experimental thrust upwards. The dark-haired man moaned and threw his head back, dark tresses flowing down his back. He reached down with one slim, long-fingered hand and grasped his own arousal, stroking it at a slow and steady pace.

 

“Ummm,” whimpered Vincent, licking his lips and biting on the lower bit of flesh enticingly. It was a gesture that Cid found very arousing.

 

The pilot set a pace, thrusting upwards as Vincent pushed himself downwards. They began to lose themselves in the feeling.

 

Neither of them noticed the ringing of their phones. Anything beyond the satiating of their desires was unimportant.

 

Cid released the gunman's hips with one hand and wrapped that around the ex-Turk's arousal, joining in the stroking of the swollen shaft. They were working themselves into a frenzy, unable to hold back after having waited so long.

 

“Harder! Harder!” Vincent moaned, mimicking his actions of earlier as he pushed himself downwards with more force then before. The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed throughout the room.

 

The blond groaned as he picked up the pace, thrusting upwards as much as he was able to. “I'm trying…” whined the pilot. He breathed heavily, sweat trailing from his brows. He was working far more than he should have…

 

A hot fire was racing through Vincent's body as Cid slammed into his sweet spot over and over. He could scarcely think much less breathe as he lost himself to the sensations. His hand reflexively tightened around his own arousal as he reached down and tweaked at one of the pilot's dusky hardened nubs. Cid hissed with the pleasure, feeling his toes curling.

 

The gunman was the best damn lay he had ever had!!

 

Suddenly, Vincent gasped, feeling his whole body tightening. A great rush of pleasure raced through his body, filling him up completely as it exploded within. White sparks danced in front of his eyes and he lost himself to the spasms of orgasm and he came all over his hands and that of the pilots, as well as Cid's chest.

 

Moments later he felt a wet, warmth spread through him as the pilot came as well, his teeth gritted as he moaned low, long and hard. The hand on the gunman's hip tightened almost painfully, and Vincent suspected that later he would have a bruise that he could identify as Cid's by the fingerprints.

 

The gunman collapsed against the pilot's chest, breathing heavily. He felt extremely worn out. Beneath him he could hear the blond taking in heaving breaths, his body trembling silently.

 

“That…” managed Cid but didn't get very far before he fell silent.

 

“Yes,” nodded Vincent. He couldn't say anything else either. His mind had been blown away. Perhaps he could get used to something like this… minus all the soap opera drama that was.

 

“That…”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That was fucking…” Cid searched for the perfect word but couldn't find it. It was on the tip of his tongue but it wouldn't go any further.

 

“Amazing?” Vincent suggested.

 

“No.”

 

“Spectacular?”

 

“No.”

 

“Hmm… I know!” The gunman snapped his fingers. “Extraordinary!”

 

“Yes, I know I was,” agreed Cid, smiling broadly.

 

The gunman rolled his eyes and struggled to push his weary body up from crushing the pilot. He only marginally succeeded. The dark-haired man looked down at the grinning blond and suddenly got an evil idea. Cid seemed exactly the type too…

 

“And modest too,” smirked the gunman as he brought up his hands and wiggled his fingers.

Cid's eyes widened with fear. “No, Vinny! Don't!” he pleaded.

 

Vincent smirked evilly. He cackled. “Mwahaha! You deserve it!” And with that he attacked. He dug his fingers into the pilot's side and started to tickle him.

 

Cid started to writhe about rather enticingly below him, laughing all the while. He squirmed trying to get away as his face turned red with the exertion. He seemed he was quite ticklish.

 

The gunman viciously attacked, going for the sides until he had the pilot gasping for breath and begging for mercy.

 

The sound of a phone ringing disturbed the tickling session and both men glared at their floor where a PHS was ringing and blinking with bright lights.

 

“I think that one is yours,” groaned Vincent as he recognized the tune of `I Believe I Can Fly.' It was Cid's theme song.

 

“Ignore it,” the pilot said, waving his hand in dismissal.

 

The gunman shrugged but suddenly found himself having grown tired of the tickle game. Screwing Cid's brains out was going to have to wait until he took a nap. Vincent believed honestly in just rewards. He moved to lay next to the pilot, his body screaming only slightly in protest. He hadn't had such a good workout in a long while.

 

Just as soon as the voice mail picked up on Cid's PHS, Vincent's phone began to ring as well. He could recognize the tone anywhere because it was a famous Papa Roach song, `Scars.'

 

He sighed heavily and attempted to ignore it. To be honest, it was one of the first times the damn thing had rung since he procured the hated object a few months ago. The first time had been Tifa calling to invite him to a party that he had seriously debated skipping.

 

“Eh, shouldn't you answer that?” asked the pilot, nudging an elbow into the ex-Turk's side.

 

“Just as soon as you answer yours,” grumbled the dark-haired man as he snuggled into the covers. The ring-tone continued insistently.

 

“Do you not have voice mail?” questioned Cid, nudging him again.

 

Vincent didn't answer.

 

“Vin? Hello? Voicemail?” asked the pilot, the sound refusing to stop as the phone's antenna blinked in bright red colors. Figures.

 

He received a snore in response. The pilot looked over incredulously to find that the gunman had fallen asleep!

 

Cid huffed and threw himself off of the bed, padding over to where the phone still rang innocently. He grabbed it and flipped it open.

 

“Yeah?” he demanded rudely and rather gruffly.

 

“Hello?” came a sweet and innocent voice. “Do not hang up. This is an important sales call from…” there was a pause and the sound of papers rustling. “…From The National Bureau of Tax Affairs. We are trying to reach one Vincent Valentine. Please stay on the line and a representative will be with you shor-“ Cid slammed the phone shut and threw it on the floor.

 

With a loud curse he crawled back in bed beside the oblivious gunman. The dark-headed man slept like a rock!! Cid relaxed into the comfortable bed and found himself yawning. Yes, a nap would do just fine now.

 

“And my scars remind us… that the past is real… I tear my heart open… just to feel…”

 

That damn phone!!

 

And did the ex-Turk move?

 

No. That would make too much sense.

 

Cid sighed as he reached down and picked up an object from the floor. One that the gunman had discarded earlier.

 

“I'm weak and I'm feeling down… I just want to be alone… I'm pissed cause you came around… Why don't you just go-“

 

Bang!

 

“This is my rifle,” chuckled Cid as he dropped the Death Penalty to the floor. He snuggled next to the unmoving gunman and quickly dropped off into sleep, convinced that no more would Papa Roach be disturbing his slumber.

 

* * *

 

Tax affairs? Oh lord, what has our Vincent done now?

 

The end is soon… I think. I keep wanting to drag it out and I don't know why. So long as I got the ideas I guess I will keep writing.

 

Review please. I am always amused by your responses to my writing. And just for the record, I am insane. But I find that sanity is so overrated. Cheers.

 

~Sleep and Dream of Dragons~