Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ No More Tears ( Chapter 32 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: dracoqueen22 
Nanaki's Thoughts on the Matter and then a cute Cid and Vincent scene. Yay for the angst.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.05.2006 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.9K | Visits: 343 | Status: Completed
Nanaki's Thoughts on the Matter and then a cute Cid and Vincent scene. Yay for the angst.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 07.05.2006 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.9K | Visits: 343 | Status: Completed
----- meanwhile
(Voice in Head)
‘Internal Thought’
Chapter 32: No More Tears
The lion wolf padded quietly down the hall of one of the few buildings that had survived the attack on Cosmo Canyon. It was one that the council had chosen to house their meetings, and it was to one such gathering that he was heading to that very moment.
None of the council knew of his recent transformation, he and Yuffie having been hiding that fact since it occurred. However, a meeting had been called and as the representative of his tribe and Bugenhagen’s successor, he was required to go.
The ninja had opted to remain behind, boring meetings not her forte, or so she had claimed. This was fine with Nanaki as it would give him time to think without having her around, not that he didn’t like being with the dark-haired beauty.
Yet, things were harder now that he wasn’t human-like. He could no longer think of her in the same terms as before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she thought of him now. Anything more than the friendship that had been building between them was being quickly forgotten in the face of the harsh reminder of his true form.
He felt even more alone now than he had ever before. With the failure in locating the trail of his tribe – or more like being dissuaded from the path due to the barrier – he still didn’t know whether or not he was the last. Until he could find that information, he preferred to think he was so that he would not be disappointed. Yet, if that was so… then he was doomed to a life of loneliness.
He had been foolish to entertain notions of something like love and romance, even if he had been in a human-like form. As they say, all good things must come to an end, and he had suffered a rude awakening. He couldn’t expect Yuffie, no matter how good her heart was, to continue to care for him in the form of a lion wolf.
The most they could be from now on was friends, but with the memories of what could have been, was that even possible? He knew he cared for her very deeply, the thoughts of their kisses would have made him blush if it were possible in his form. She had such a wonderful scent – and citrus… she always tasted of citrus. He didn’t know how it was achievable for someone to taste that good.
Would things be awkward between them now? Would he lose her friendship, as well as the opportunities for things that never would have been in the first place? He feared that more than anything; he dreaded the loss of her companionship. Since the defeat of Sephiroth, the ninja had been a constant by his side, learning along with him from Bugenhagen and fighting to protect Cosmo Canyon.
Despite her somewhat sneaky tendencies and sticky fingers, which she was beginning to mature out of it, the ninja had other qualities that Nanaki found endearing. He loved how she could make a joke out of near everything and that she cared very deeply for those that mattered to her, evident by how sad she was with the ex-Turk’s death.
She was smart and strong, nearly fearless in battle and almost a perfect match for him strength for strength. They understood each other better than some of the others in the group, simply for being the youngest out of them all. That had been their bond in the beginning, that and the fact that everyone was annoyed by the ninja’s exterior, not taking the time to see beneath the surface.
In all regards, Yuffie was his best friend, and before the unfortunate transformation, it almost seemed like they were becoming more. The tentative steps they were taking in a romantic direction, from the awkward kisses to the shy glances, seemed almost more than he was worthy of.
He knew that they both had misgivings. Yuffie because of an arranged marriage she did not want and he because of his form, but in the days spent together, it was easy to forget those circumstances. It was almost like they were isolated from the world. The more time they spent in the presence of one another… the more they were losing themselves to the fairy tale they were creating.
They hadn’t talked about anything since the loss of his demi-human form. Mostly random things like the weather, weapons, and the rebuilding of Cosmo Canyon. Neither of them had been willing to bring up the topic of his recent transformation or where their relationship was going to go.
He simply feared rejection but wasn’t sure what was going through Yuffie’s mind. Nanaki did know, however, that sooner or later they were going to have to talk because the thin line of tension that now separated them was going to do more damage to their friendship then trying to ignore the problem all together.
In the end, the only thing that mattered to him was keeping that companionship. He could deal with loneliness for the rest of his life, even if she moved on to love another and marry someone else. He could learn to live with it if he could still have her friendship. That was worth far more to him than anything else, though he wouldn’t have minded finally being able to love himself.
But now, with his form and future unknown, he would rather believe in reality and prepare himself for the inevitable. It was how he had been coping long before he had met her, and it would suffice. After all, he had much practice in being the only one of his kind. Now would be no different.
With that thought firmly entrenched in his mind and firmly pushing away the pangs in his heart at the thought of Yuffie being with another, the fire wolf pushed open the door to the council chambers with a large paw and stepped inside, prepared to deal with the inevitable questions and stares.
“Oh, Nanaki, you have… transformed?” came the startled voice of one councilman Kenneth Shavers, the General Head of Advisory. He was a portly man with a balding head but also a general kindness to him that Nanaki found soothing.
The fire lion ducked his head in acknowledgement as he padded into the conference room, taking a seat at the remaining chair that had been reserved for him. From his vantage point, he could see all five council members clearly.
Other than Kenneth and to his right, there was Dawn Weathers, the Head of Agriculture, a slim, pale woman with freckles and a continuously somber expression. To her right was River Tawney, the Chief of Treasury since the council was first started. He was an elderly man, though still sharp of wit with shining brown eyes and long, whitened hair – not unlike Bugenhagen.
To his right was Summer Cole, Head of Machinery. Her job was to make sure that the wind mills were working properly, and she also aided in the rebuilding project. She had short spunky, red hair that went well with her sprightly attitude. Nanaki could also count on her to keep the council interesting.
To her right was Jewel Skies, the Chief of Homeland Happiness and Security. She was the one truly in charge of the rebuilding project, though Summer helped her. Jewel tended to be rather pessimistic and, at times, ground on Nanaki’s nerves, so he only tolerated her.
As for himself, as Bugenhagen’s replacement, he was the Education Minister. Not really an interesting job, but someone had to do it. It would be his until he could train someone else to take his place, if he so desired.
“Yes, Kenneth. I don’t know why this time, but it is a rather unfortunate event,” Nanaki responded to the councilman’s earlier observation. “What are we to discuss today?”
“You have still found nothing in your grandfather’s notes?” Dawn questioned, a slight frown to her face.
The lion wolf shook his head negatively. “Yuffie and I have spent countless hours scouring what few tomes remain after the fire. Whatever information he had either burned up or went with him.”
River sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. “That is rather unfortunate.”
“Nevertheless, I am certain Nanaki does not want to sit around in here while we tell him what he already knows,” Kenneth added in, eyeing each member around the circular table. He leaned forward, crossing his arms, palms down on the table top. “We wanted to discuss the plans for rebuilding.”
Nanaki made himself comfortable in the chair as he prepared to listen to the council. It looked as if to be another boring meeting, a reiteration of what things he already knew, and so he settled for being only half-attentive and returning to his own thoughts.
As their conversation drifted in and out of his attention, he turned to other more important matters, like his new form and the state of Gaia. He allowed himself to worry about Yuffie and the fate of the world as he contemplated the war that was in development and exactly what foe they faced this time around.
He couldn’t explain it, but he somehow knew that Vincent was in the center of it. He hadn’t quite bought the whole ‘the planet needs a sacrifice’ that everyone else believed in and, as a product of a great deal of deep thinking, believed that there was more going on then what was known.
The only thing left was to figure out what… an easier task thought than accomplished. He internally sighed as Summer and River began to bicker over funding.
It was going to be a long day.
***
He woke up slowly, the memories of the night before still on his tongue and on his mind. He felt a weight and warmth on his side, instantly recognizing the familiar exotic scent as Vincent. It had been awhile since he had woken with such a content feeling in his heart and another body in his bed. The pilot found that he rather liked the idea and never wanted it to end again.
The gunman was lying on one of his arms, a leg carelessly thrown over him. Cid snuck a glance at the now slightly tanned man, almost surprised by the relaxation in Vincent’s features. Even before, he had rarely caught the man with a peaceful look while he slept.
More often than not, the gunman had been haunted by vicious nightmares that the pilot had to soothe at night, though Vincent had never been aware of it. It wasn’t until the latter stages of their relationship that the nightmares had begun to fade, almost as if they were chased away by his very presence.
The change to the gunman’s features didn’t upset him at all. Though he would miss the skin that was almost like porcelain and the fiery crimson eyes, he found amber skin and a stormy gaze just as suited for the ex-Turk as all the exotics before.
The left hand – he knew by a glance – was horribly scarred, so much so that Cid was surprised that Vincent could move it normally and not pull at the skin. The golden claw that once resided there he had in his room on the Highwind. Perhaps if the ex-Turk wanted it, Cid would return it.
Nevertheless, the pilot was just happy to have the man he loved back in his arms, no matter his appearance. If Vincent had returned horribly disfigured, he would have been pleased just to see him alive. He supposed that’s what being in love meant, not caring for outward appearances. And by all accounts, it seemed the ex-Turk’s personality had not changed either. That was what he had fallen in love with in the first place.
The withdrawn man who cared enough for others that he felt responsible for their well-being, the man who hid his feelings behind an impassive mask for fear of being hurt again… that was the man that Cid had given his heart to. He didn’t want Vincent to change, perfectly content with him the way he was.
He had never expected – on the day he decided to join the eclectic group of Anti-ShinRa – that he would find someone who would burst into his life and basically claim him. He had never anticipated running into the mysterious red-clothed figure that had appeared in his rocket again. Nor did he imagine that he would start a relationship with the beautiful man and eventually give him his heart.
It was the type of situation that occurred once in a million. It was almost as if it were fated, if Cid was the sort of person to really believe in fate. He believed more that life was what he made of it, rather then some predestined course.
A sudden urging in his bladder made him push his thoughts aside for the moment as he carefully extricated himself from the dark-haired man’s grasp. Trying not to wake him, he slowly removed the limbs that were wrapped around his body and slipped out of the bed. The sleeping gunman made a small noise of protestation before unconsciously resettling himself into a comfortable position.
On the verge of becoming overly sentimental, the pilot quietly but quickly hurried from the room into the bathroom across the hall. It wasn’t exactly dark in the room, the beginnings of the rising sun peeking in through the curtains, illuminating things so that he did not strike his hips or toes on anything uncomfortable.
The house was mostly silent, it still being early in the morning. He doubted even early-bird Shera was up yet. The room that Rude and she shared down the hall had a tightly closed door, and he didn’t even attempt to try and hear anything. He didn’t want to.
His mind began to wander again as he concluded his business in the bathroom, washing his hands in the sink and idly staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like shit; there was no way around it, though the small amount of sleep he had gotten the previous night had significantly improved him.
In fact, he realized sardonically, it was almost ironic. His skin had paled some with his lack of regard for his own health. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was in desperate need of another trim before it got to the point when he would actually have to brush it.
He could probably use a shave, but he knew that when it grew back, it would only reach its current state and stop growing. He looked incredibly tired and worn. No wonder the first word out of Vincent’s mouth had been that he looked thin. He had lost weight… and a significant amount at that.
Sighing softly to himself, he dried his hands on the towel before flipping the light off and wandering back into the room that had been loaned to Vincent.
He was glad that the ex-Turk had returned to him. More than glad… elated, relieved, finally feeling as if he could live again, feeling like himself… all of those emotions were running through him over and over, in a never ending circuit of feeling. But he was also contemplative.
He wondered where Vincent had been in the six months that he had searched. He had gone to every town and city, explaining his appearance and asking about him, often more than once. He had scoured every upwelling of the Lifestream and visited the crater on several occasions.
He knew that with the changes in his appearance and loss of memory, it was possible that Vincent could have been anywhere. The pilot wondered if there was anything further he could have done, short of entering every house in every town and scouring it top to bottom to find the missing dark-haired man.
The Captain slipped back into the bed, scooting closer to the ex-Turk’s warmth, mildly surprised when he found semi-alert grey eyes regarding him with interest. He flashed the dark-haired man a small smile as he idly considered asking Vincent where he had been.
“Good morning,” he said softly. “Though it is still early.”
Vincent nodded in response before blinking slowly, the look on his face strangely contemplative. He scoured the pilot’s face for a moment before seeming to make a decision. As Cid opened his mouth to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, the gunman chose that moment to speak.
“Gongaga,” he said simply. “I was in Gongaga under the kindness of strangers.” His voice was quiet, almost as if it were difficult for him to say the words.
The pilot nodded in understanding as he lay next to the gunman. “Your claw washed up on the shore of Cosmo Canyon, but I never found out until a few days ago.” He paused, laughing somewhat sardonically. “Apparently, they thought they were protecting me from more heartache.”
“I never even realized that I still had my arm underneath that cursed thing,” the gunman mused quietly, absentmindedly bringing up his scarred left hand and looking at it. “Damn Hojo and the holes in my memories…”
Cid gently reached out and took the hand, rubbing his fingers absentmindedly over the long upraised scars. “I never minded the claw,” he said, pulling the hand towards his face and kissing it softly. However, the look in his eyes was anything but tender, heated in its intensity.
Vincent reached out with his free hand and grabbed the pilot, pulling him in for a kiss. They pressed their lips together, tongues snaking out to tangle and swap spit. The ex-Turk had always found it satisfying to kiss the pilot, the strange mix of cigarettes and tea that he always tasted of something the gunman never forgot.
He pulled back from the kiss, feeling the sudden need to relate that information to the pilot. “No matter that I had forgotten my name. I couldn’t forget you. Your smell, your voice, the feel of your hands on me…” he trailed off, looking into eyes the color of the sky as he traced a hand down the front of the pilot’s bared and well-muscled chest.
“How long would you have searched?” Vincent asked softly after a moment; it was a question that had been burning on his mind. He hadn’t truly known the depth of the blond’s love for him to do such a thing.
Cid responded in all seriousness, “As long as it took.” There was no doubt in his gaze. He truly meant it.
A half smile crossed the ex-Turk’s face before he leaned up and kissed the pilot. The simple gesture of affection turned into something more as they began to devour each other with their mouths.
Vincent reached up and pushed the blond man towards the bed as he crawled over him, straddling him in a move reminiscent of the night before. Except his plans were different this time. He wanted to remember how it felt to be within the pilot, he wanted to remind himself of those tender moments before the six month separation. Almost as if he knew what Vincent was thinking, Cid dug around in the covers, finally producing the slim bottle of lotion that they had used the night before and pressing it into the ex-Turk’s hands. He gave the dark-haired man a meaningful look before bucking upwards, as if to alert him to what he wanted.
Vincent took the bottle, glad to see that it was labeled unscented and bent down, enveloping the pilot in a bruising kiss as he allowed the lotion to drop down to his side. He wouldn’t need it for the moment.
Cid’s arms wrapped around him, holding their bodies together as he explored the familiar taste of the gunman, as if reminding himself of what he had been missing.
He thrust his tongue inside Cid’s mouth, claiming him with the action before he slowly drew back, putting kisses along the man’s stubbled jaw line and working his way towards to the other man’s ear. He curled his tongue along the outer shell before nipping down to where neck met collarbone. There he firmly latched onto the skin, sucking deeply to make a mark. No one would be able to see it, but Vincent would know it was there.
Cid gasped at the feeling but didn’t protest, choosing instead to run his hands down the gunman’s body, rolling a nipple between his fingers and causing it to pebble beneath his touch.
Vincent finished making his mark and began to work his way down the muscular body, as if familiarizing himself with a man he had never forgotten. He paused once on his journey, flicking his tongue across hardened nubs before continuing downwards. Cid moved beneath him, sinuously rubbing his aching hardness against the flesh of the man perched above him.
Teeth grazed over tanned skin as the ex-Turk licked his way over bare stomach, across hips, upon the sensitive flesh of an inner thigh before making his way to the pilot’s straining erection. He wrapped his lips and sucked deeply, causing Cid to yelp a curse before thrusting up hungrily into his mouth. However, he had only intended to tease the pilot. He allowed him to buck a few more times before removing his mouth.
Cid’s moans of protest only served to arouse the gunman further as he tongued the older man’s balls before slipping further down. His legs spread unconsciously as the dark-haired man licked a line down his perineum to the pink puckered entrance. As hands tangled in his hair in a gesture of continuation, Vincent resisted the urge to smirk as he stuck out his tongue, lightly circling the ringed muscle.
Fingers grazed his scalp as he continued to lave the pilot’s entrance with his tongue, swirling about and prodding, both stretching and lubing. Cid’s body moved with his ministrations, and the small whimpers of ecstasy that the blond was emitting were sending jolts of heat through Vincent’s body.
“Gods, Vince,” moaned the pilot. “Not gonna last much longer…”
Wanting things to last further than they were heading, Vincent finished with one last swipe of his tongue. “Can’t have that just yet,” he murmured softly, shaking his head slightly at the man’s muttered curses.
His right hand dove into the wadded sheets where he had stashed the bottle of lube as he crawled back up the pilot’s body, landing a few well placed kisses and nips as he did so.
He shared kisses with Cid as he blindly uncapped the lotion and poured some on to his hand. The pilot bit gently at his lips, swiping his tongue inside the gunman’s wet cavern and greedily sharing flavors. Vincent coated three fingers with the slippery liquid before guiding his hand down between the blond’s spread legs.
He pushed one finger into Cid’s entrance in the same moment that he moved to suck on his neck, planning on leaving another mark to match the other. He licked at the pilot’s tender skin as he carefully stretched him, the task easier due to his actions earlier. One finger, then two slid easily into the blond’s body.
Cid was no less busy, eagerly running his hands up and down his partner. He roamed calloused fingers over sensitive nipples and idly stroked Vincent’s dripping erection, causing the gunman to moan against his neck and collarbone where he was currently feasting.
Fingers brushed against his prostrate, and his hips nearly came off the bed, the urge to thrust nearly overwhelming the pilot. He whimpered softly as the ex-Turk pressed their mouths together once more, firmly adding the third finger. He was determined not to hurt the Captain as it had been some time since they had last been together like this. He brushed his fingers within the blond before feeling satisfied.
The ex-Turk flicked his tongue over Cid’s lips before he sat back on his heels, convinced that the other man had been properly stretched. Vincent grabbed the discarded bottle of lotion, moaning slightly as he slicked the moist substance over his straining erection. He allowed himself a glance at the man below him, tendrils of arousal coiling tightly at the flushed red look to Cid’s face and the brightness in his eyes as he leisurely stroked his own shaft. There was heat in the sky-blue gaze… and burning desire for the dark-haired man.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned over, smacking the pilot’s hand away long enough to take another taste of the weeping shaft. He rolled the sensitive head around his mouth and licked a long line up the shaft, satisfied with Cid’s aroused moans. After the teasing touch, he crept up the blond’s body and shared a short kiss.
“I love you,” he whispered softly, for the moment wanting to express the feelings in his heart.
Cid grabbed him, sharing another slow and sensual kiss before he released him. “Love ya… now get busy cause I’m dying here!”
Typical Cid.
The ex-Turk shook his head in what was a most familiar reaction before moving back down, settling between the blond’s spread legs.
He guided himself to the puckered entrance and slowly pushed himself into the tight ring. Cid winced slightly until the head popped past the muscle. For a brief moment, there was a jab of pain as the ex-Turk took him, having been so long. But at the first stroke and subsequent brush of his prostrate, all thoughts of pain flew from his mind.
He reached up with his hands, running them continuously over the ex-Turk’s skin as Vincent began to thrust into him at a slow and steady pace, carefully stretching him from the inside until he was ready for more forceful movements.
“I’m not made of glass,” the pilot growled impatiently.
Vincent tried to restrain the smirk threatening to break out on his face as he leaned forward, resting his weight on his hands. Cid’s legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he did so, and he stepped up the pace, thrusting into the pilot with more force. The blond moaned at the relentless onslaught of stimulation to his prostrate and clutched at Vincent’s shoulders, hips moving in time with the dark-haired man’s movements.
The scent of sex was heavy on the air as well as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh coupled with fierce moans of pleasure. It was nearly maddening to Vincent, the feel of sliding in and out of the pilot, being wrapped in tight, hot heat. It threatened to consume him. He leaned down to share a brief kiss with Cid before increasing his pace – if that were at all possible – feeling that his orgasm was very near.
The Captain snaked a hand between their bodies, gripping his cock firmly as he began to stroke. A fire was coiling in his belly, threatening to explode at any moment. He pumped himself harder as Vincent applied continuous stimulation to him within. For a moment, he swore spots danced in front of his eyes.
Cid came, half-screaming the gunman’s name as his fingers dug almost painfully into Vincent’s shoulders, and his legs tightened around his waist. His entire body shook with the force of his orgasm as he coated both his stomach and the ex-Turk’s chest with his seed. Vincent quickly followed him over the edge, succumbing to the sensations of being wrapped in tight, warm heat.
The two men collapsed against the bed, breathing heavily as sweat coated their bodies. Vincent struggled to roll over so that he was not crushing the somewhat shorter man as he attempted to calm his racing heart and allow his mind to return to his body. The feeling of familiarity and being home was wreaking havoc on his emotions, trying to turn him sentimental.
Hands ran over his bared chest as Cid half-turned and enveloped him in a bruising kiss. Vincent wrapped his own arms around the blond man, holding him close as their tongues tangled together with labored breathing against each other’s mouths.
“I see there were some things you did not forget,” teased the pilot almost breathlessly as he gently pulled back from the kiss.
Vincent shook his head in near disbelief at Cid. “Only you would have such a thing to say,” he commented quietly before frowning slightly. “Still… that was a rather… unfortunate way for me to regain my memory.” He was referring to what had occurred the night before.
Cid laughed. “That was an ungraceful tumble ya took down the stairs. If I hadn’t of been so concerned, I might have laughed. But now I feel like I can.”
A smile tugged at the corners of the gunman’s mouth. Six months and still nothing had changed; there was something immensely soothing in that fact. He didn’t respond, however, not really finding that he had anything to say that wasn’t extremely fluffy and sweet, something he really didn’t do.
After a parting kiss, the pilot rolled over and blindly reached on the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes he had stashed there. He shook out the carton and had just managed to get one of the sticks into his hand when it was plucked away and tossed into the trash near the door, a perfect score. He turned shocked eyes onto the gunman, who was already reaching for the pack.
“No,” Vincent explained, shaking his head. “You don’t need those anymore.”
“C’mon, Vince,” pleaded the pilot. “You can’t expect me to quit cold turkey.”
Yet, the look on the ex-Turk’s face was grim. “You’re killing yourself with these, Cid, and don’t think I don’t realize the reason why.” His voice dropped in volume, a bit of guilt creeping in.
The blond shook his head fiercely, dropping the pack on the floor and sitting up so that he could speak more freely, Vincent rising as well. “You can’t blame yourself for my choices,” returned the pilot. “I was smoking well before you came along.”
“Almost a pack a day?” questioned the gunman with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve lost weight… you look as if you hadn’t slept in months. Gods, Cid, you look like you’ve been trying to die!”
“Well, what do you fucking expect?” demanded Cid, nearly yelling. “You were gone, and I had nothing else. Nothing! I was nobody… not the Captain… not Cid! Dying would have been a relief!”
A dark shadow passed over the ex-Turk’s face as he regretted his words. The pain clearly evident in those sky-blue eyes shot straight to his heart, and he knew a guilt even stronger than his failure of Lucrecia. Without another word, he reached forward and grabbed the blond, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, apologizing for more than his words but also for the six months that the pilot had to suffer almost entirely alone.
Cid didn’t speak, trying to rein in the tears that were threatening to spill. He hadn’t cried in awhile, suppressing them after the first few weeks of Vincent being gone. He certainly didn’t want to start back again. After all, the ex-Turk was back. There was no longer a need for tears.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” replied the Captain gruffly, trying to cover up the lump in his throat as he grabbed the ex-Turk’s chin and kissed him gently, soothing the excessive remorse that he knew the guilt-prone man was beginning to build within him.
A smile tugged at the corner of Vincent’s mouth as the kiss ended. He looked into sky-blue eyes, again surprised by how much they made him feel warm and fluttery inside. Gah! He was becoming sappier by the minute.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” questioned the pilot.
The gunman shrugged. “No more so than anyone else. It only seems that way because we have unnaturally happy people to go by.”
Cid grinned. “You mean like Reeve and Reno and Rude and Shera?” He laughed lightly. “They are a rather unique pair, aren’t they?”
Vincent shook his head, shifting their position until they were both lying back down on the bed again, fatigue settling into him. He wouldn’t let go of the other man, however, sensing that for the moment, he needed to be touched.
“I’m sure that they say the same thing of us.”
The pilot grinned, reaching down for the scattered blankets and pulling them up over their figures. There was a bit of a chill to the air in the room, probably a result of the thermostat being set too high. Yet, rather than get up and check it, he felt conveniently lazy enough to just pull on the blankets.
He settled back down comfortably on the bed, not bothering to respond to Vincent’s comment because he had nothing to say. He was content to just lie there next to him, even if they did nothing else.
***
The emotions between the two just keep oscillating, don’t they?
(Voice in Head)
‘Internal Thought’
Chapter 32: No More Tears
The lion wolf padded quietly down the hall of one of the few buildings that had survived the attack on Cosmo Canyon. It was one that the council had chosen to house their meetings, and it was to one such gathering that he was heading to that very moment.
None of the council knew of his recent transformation, he and Yuffie having been hiding that fact since it occurred. However, a meeting had been called and as the representative of his tribe and Bugenhagen’s successor, he was required to go.
The ninja had opted to remain behind, boring meetings not her forte, or so she had claimed. This was fine with Nanaki as it would give him time to think without having her around, not that he didn’t like being with the dark-haired beauty.
Yet, things were harder now that he wasn’t human-like. He could no longer think of her in the same terms as before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she thought of him now. Anything more than the friendship that had been building between them was being quickly forgotten in the face of the harsh reminder of his true form.
He felt even more alone now than he had ever before. With the failure in locating the trail of his tribe – or more like being dissuaded from the path due to the barrier – he still didn’t know whether or not he was the last. Until he could find that information, he preferred to think he was so that he would not be disappointed. Yet, if that was so… then he was doomed to a life of loneliness.
He had been foolish to entertain notions of something like love and romance, even if he had been in a human-like form. As they say, all good things must come to an end, and he had suffered a rude awakening. He couldn’t expect Yuffie, no matter how good her heart was, to continue to care for him in the form of a lion wolf.
The most they could be from now on was friends, but with the memories of what could have been, was that even possible? He knew he cared for her very deeply, the thoughts of their kisses would have made him blush if it were possible in his form. She had such a wonderful scent – and citrus… she always tasted of citrus. He didn’t know how it was achievable for someone to taste that good.
Would things be awkward between them now? Would he lose her friendship, as well as the opportunities for things that never would have been in the first place? He feared that more than anything; he dreaded the loss of her companionship. Since the defeat of Sephiroth, the ninja had been a constant by his side, learning along with him from Bugenhagen and fighting to protect Cosmo Canyon.
Despite her somewhat sneaky tendencies and sticky fingers, which she was beginning to mature out of it, the ninja had other qualities that Nanaki found endearing. He loved how she could make a joke out of near everything and that she cared very deeply for those that mattered to her, evident by how sad she was with the ex-Turk’s death.
She was smart and strong, nearly fearless in battle and almost a perfect match for him strength for strength. They understood each other better than some of the others in the group, simply for being the youngest out of them all. That had been their bond in the beginning, that and the fact that everyone was annoyed by the ninja’s exterior, not taking the time to see beneath the surface.
In all regards, Yuffie was his best friend, and before the unfortunate transformation, it almost seemed like they were becoming more. The tentative steps they were taking in a romantic direction, from the awkward kisses to the shy glances, seemed almost more than he was worthy of.
He knew that they both had misgivings. Yuffie because of an arranged marriage she did not want and he because of his form, but in the days spent together, it was easy to forget those circumstances. It was almost like they were isolated from the world. The more time they spent in the presence of one another… the more they were losing themselves to the fairy tale they were creating.
They hadn’t talked about anything since the loss of his demi-human form. Mostly random things like the weather, weapons, and the rebuilding of Cosmo Canyon. Neither of them had been willing to bring up the topic of his recent transformation or where their relationship was going to go.
He simply feared rejection but wasn’t sure what was going through Yuffie’s mind. Nanaki did know, however, that sooner or later they were going to have to talk because the thin line of tension that now separated them was going to do more damage to their friendship then trying to ignore the problem all together.
In the end, the only thing that mattered to him was keeping that companionship. He could deal with loneliness for the rest of his life, even if she moved on to love another and marry someone else. He could learn to live with it if he could still have her friendship. That was worth far more to him than anything else, though he wouldn’t have minded finally being able to love himself.
But now, with his form and future unknown, he would rather believe in reality and prepare himself for the inevitable. It was how he had been coping long before he had met her, and it would suffice. After all, he had much practice in being the only one of his kind. Now would be no different.
With that thought firmly entrenched in his mind and firmly pushing away the pangs in his heart at the thought of Yuffie being with another, the fire wolf pushed open the door to the council chambers with a large paw and stepped inside, prepared to deal with the inevitable questions and stares.
“Oh, Nanaki, you have… transformed?” came the startled voice of one councilman Kenneth Shavers, the General Head of Advisory. He was a portly man with a balding head but also a general kindness to him that Nanaki found soothing.
The fire lion ducked his head in acknowledgement as he padded into the conference room, taking a seat at the remaining chair that had been reserved for him. From his vantage point, he could see all five council members clearly.
Other than Kenneth and to his right, there was Dawn Weathers, the Head of Agriculture, a slim, pale woman with freckles and a continuously somber expression. To her right was River Tawney, the Chief of Treasury since the council was first started. He was an elderly man, though still sharp of wit with shining brown eyes and long, whitened hair – not unlike Bugenhagen.
To his right was Summer Cole, Head of Machinery. Her job was to make sure that the wind mills were working properly, and she also aided in the rebuilding project. She had short spunky, red hair that went well with her sprightly attitude. Nanaki could also count on her to keep the council interesting.
To her right was Jewel Skies, the Chief of Homeland Happiness and Security. She was the one truly in charge of the rebuilding project, though Summer helped her. Jewel tended to be rather pessimistic and, at times, ground on Nanaki’s nerves, so he only tolerated her.
As for himself, as Bugenhagen’s replacement, he was the Education Minister. Not really an interesting job, but someone had to do it. It would be his until he could train someone else to take his place, if he so desired.
“Yes, Kenneth. I don’t know why this time, but it is a rather unfortunate event,” Nanaki responded to the councilman’s earlier observation. “What are we to discuss today?”
“You have still found nothing in your grandfather’s notes?” Dawn questioned, a slight frown to her face.
The lion wolf shook his head negatively. “Yuffie and I have spent countless hours scouring what few tomes remain after the fire. Whatever information he had either burned up or went with him.”
River sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. “That is rather unfortunate.”
“Nevertheless, I am certain Nanaki does not want to sit around in here while we tell him what he already knows,” Kenneth added in, eyeing each member around the circular table. He leaned forward, crossing his arms, palms down on the table top. “We wanted to discuss the plans for rebuilding.”
Nanaki made himself comfortable in the chair as he prepared to listen to the council. It looked as if to be another boring meeting, a reiteration of what things he already knew, and so he settled for being only half-attentive and returning to his own thoughts.
As their conversation drifted in and out of his attention, he turned to other more important matters, like his new form and the state of Gaia. He allowed himself to worry about Yuffie and the fate of the world as he contemplated the war that was in development and exactly what foe they faced this time around.
He couldn’t explain it, but he somehow knew that Vincent was in the center of it. He hadn’t quite bought the whole ‘the planet needs a sacrifice’ that everyone else believed in and, as a product of a great deal of deep thinking, believed that there was more going on then what was known.
The only thing left was to figure out what… an easier task thought than accomplished. He internally sighed as Summer and River began to bicker over funding.
It was going to be a long day.
***
He woke up slowly, the memories of the night before still on his tongue and on his mind. He felt a weight and warmth on his side, instantly recognizing the familiar exotic scent as Vincent. It had been awhile since he had woken with such a content feeling in his heart and another body in his bed. The pilot found that he rather liked the idea and never wanted it to end again.
The gunman was lying on one of his arms, a leg carelessly thrown over him. Cid snuck a glance at the now slightly tanned man, almost surprised by the relaxation in Vincent’s features. Even before, he had rarely caught the man with a peaceful look while he slept.
More often than not, the gunman had been haunted by vicious nightmares that the pilot had to soothe at night, though Vincent had never been aware of it. It wasn’t until the latter stages of their relationship that the nightmares had begun to fade, almost as if they were chased away by his very presence.
The change to the gunman’s features didn’t upset him at all. Though he would miss the skin that was almost like porcelain and the fiery crimson eyes, he found amber skin and a stormy gaze just as suited for the ex-Turk as all the exotics before.
The left hand – he knew by a glance – was horribly scarred, so much so that Cid was surprised that Vincent could move it normally and not pull at the skin. The golden claw that once resided there he had in his room on the Highwind. Perhaps if the ex-Turk wanted it, Cid would return it.
Nevertheless, the pilot was just happy to have the man he loved back in his arms, no matter his appearance. If Vincent had returned horribly disfigured, he would have been pleased just to see him alive. He supposed that’s what being in love meant, not caring for outward appearances. And by all accounts, it seemed the ex-Turk’s personality had not changed either. That was what he had fallen in love with in the first place.
The withdrawn man who cared enough for others that he felt responsible for their well-being, the man who hid his feelings behind an impassive mask for fear of being hurt again… that was the man that Cid had given his heart to. He didn’t want Vincent to change, perfectly content with him the way he was.
He had never expected – on the day he decided to join the eclectic group of Anti-ShinRa – that he would find someone who would burst into his life and basically claim him. He had never anticipated running into the mysterious red-clothed figure that had appeared in his rocket again. Nor did he imagine that he would start a relationship with the beautiful man and eventually give him his heart.
It was the type of situation that occurred once in a million. It was almost as if it were fated, if Cid was the sort of person to really believe in fate. He believed more that life was what he made of it, rather then some predestined course.
A sudden urging in his bladder made him push his thoughts aside for the moment as he carefully extricated himself from the dark-haired man’s grasp. Trying not to wake him, he slowly removed the limbs that were wrapped around his body and slipped out of the bed. The sleeping gunman made a small noise of protestation before unconsciously resettling himself into a comfortable position.
On the verge of becoming overly sentimental, the pilot quietly but quickly hurried from the room into the bathroom across the hall. It wasn’t exactly dark in the room, the beginnings of the rising sun peeking in through the curtains, illuminating things so that he did not strike his hips or toes on anything uncomfortable.
The house was mostly silent, it still being early in the morning. He doubted even early-bird Shera was up yet. The room that Rude and she shared down the hall had a tightly closed door, and he didn’t even attempt to try and hear anything. He didn’t want to.
His mind began to wander again as he concluded his business in the bathroom, washing his hands in the sink and idly staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like shit; there was no way around it, though the small amount of sleep he had gotten the previous night had significantly improved him.
In fact, he realized sardonically, it was almost ironic. His skin had paled some with his lack of regard for his own health. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was in desperate need of another trim before it got to the point when he would actually have to brush it.
He could probably use a shave, but he knew that when it grew back, it would only reach its current state and stop growing. He looked incredibly tired and worn. No wonder the first word out of Vincent’s mouth had been that he looked thin. He had lost weight… and a significant amount at that.
Sighing softly to himself, he dried his hands on the towel before flipping the light off and wandering back into the room that had been loaned to Vincent.
He was glad that the ex-Turk had returned to him. More than glad… elated, relieved, finally feeling as if he could live again, feeling like himself… all of those emotions were running through him over and over, in a never ending circuit of feeling. But he was also contemplative.
He wondered where Vincent had been in the six months that he had searched. He had gone to every town and city, explaining his appearance and asking about him, often more than once. He had scoured every upwelling of the Lifestream and visited the crater on several occasions.
He knew that with the changes in his appearance and loss of memory, it was possible that Vincent could have been anywhere. The pilot wondered if there was anything further he could have done, short of entering every house in every town and scouring it top to bottom to find the missing dark-haired man.
The Captain slipped back into the bed, scooting closer to the ex-Turk’s warmth, mildly surprised when he found semi-alert grey eyes regarding him with interest. He flashed the dark-haired man a small smile as he idly considered asking Vincent where he had been.
“Good morning,” he said softly. “Though it is still early.”
Vincent nodded in response before blinking slowly, the look on his face strangely contemplative. He scoured the pilot’s face for a moment before seeming to make a decision. As Cid opened his mouth to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, the gunman chose that moment to speak.
“Gongaga,” he said simply. “I was in Gongaga under the kindness of strangers.” His voice was quiet, almost as if it were difficult for him to say the words.
The pilot nodded in understanding as he lay next to the gunman. “Your claw washed up on the shore of Cosmo Canyon, but I never found out until a few days ago.” He paused, laughing somewhat sardonically. “Apparently, they thought they were protecting me from more heartache.”
“I never even realized that I still had my arm underneath that cursed thing,” the gunman mused quietly, absentmindedly bringing up his scarred left hand and looking at it. “Damn Hojo and the holes in my memories…”
Cid gently reached out and took the hand, rubbing his fingers absentmindedly over the long upraised scars. “I never minded the claw,” he said, pulling the hand towards his face and kissing it softly. However, the look in his eyes was anything but tender, heated in its intensity.
Vincent reached out with his free hand and grabbed the pilot, pulling him in for a kiss. They pressed their lips together, tongues snaking out to tangle and swap spit. The ex-Turk had always found it satisfying to kiss the pilot, the strange mix of cigarettes and tea that he always tasted of something the gunman never forgot.
He pulled back from the kiss, feeling the sudden need to relate that information to the pilot. “No matter that I had forgotten my name. I couldn’t forget you. Your smell, your voice, the feel of your hands on me…” he trailed off, looking into eyes the color of the sky as he traced a hand down the front of the pilot’s bared and well-muscled chest.
“How long would you have searched?” Vincent asked softly after a moment; it was a question that had been burning on his mind. He hadn’t truly known the depth of the blond’s love for him to do such a thing.
Cid responded in all seriousness, “As long as it took.” There was no doubt in his gaze. He truly meant it.
A half smile crossed the ex-Turk’s face before he leaned up and kissed the pilot. The simple gesture of affection turned into something more as they began to devour each other with their mouths.
Vincent reached up and pushed the blond man towards the bed as he crawled over him, straddling him in a move reminiscent of the night before. Except his plans were different this time. He wanted to remember how it felt to be within the pilot, he wanted to remind himself of those tender moments before the six month separation. Almost as if he knew what Vincent was thinking, Cid dug around in the covers, finally producing the slim bottle of lotion that they had used the night before and pressing it into the ex-Turk’s hands. He gave the dark-haired man a meaningful look before bucking upwards, as if to alert him to what he wanted.
Vincent took the bottle, glad to see that it was labeled unscented and bent down, enveloping the pilot in a bruising kiss as he allowed the lotion to drop down to his side. He wouldn’t need it for the moment.
Cid’s arms wrapped around him, holding their bodies together as he explored the familiar taste of the gunman, as if reminding himself of what he had been missing.
He thrust his tongue inside Cid’s mouth, claiming him with the action before he slowly drew back, putting kisses along the man’s stubbled jaw line and working his way towards to the other man’s ear. He curled his tongue along the outer shell before nipping down to where neck met collarbone. There he firmly latched onto the skin, sucking deeply to make a mark. No one would be able to see it, but Vincent would know it was there.
Cid gasped at the feeling but didn’t protest, choosing instead to run his hands down the gunman’s body, rolling a nipple between his fingers and causing it to pebble beneath his touch.
Vincent finished making his mark and began to work his way down the muscular body, as if familiarizing himself with a man he had never forgotten. He paused once on his journey, flicking his tongue across hardened nubs before continuing downwards. Cid moved beneath him, sinuously rubbing his aching hardness against the flesh of the man perched above him.
Teeth grazed over tanned skin as the ex-Turk licked his way over bare stomach, across hips, upon the sensitive flesh of an inner thigh before making his way to the pilot’s straining erection. He wrapped his lips and sucked deeply, causing Cid to yelp a curse before thrusting up hungrily into his mouth. However, he had only intended to tease the pilot. He allowed him to buck a few more times before removing his mouth.
Cid’s moans of protest only served to arouse the gunman further as he tongued the older man’s balls before slipping further down. His legs spread unconsciously as the dark-haired man licked a line down his perineum to the pink puckered entrance. As hands tangled in his hair in a gesture of continuation, Vincent resisted the urge to smirk as he stuck out his tongue, lightly circling the ringed muscle.
Fingers grazed his scalp as he continued to lave the pilot’s entrance with his tongue, swirling about and prodding, both stretching and lubing. Cid’s body moved with his ministrations, and the small whimpers of ecstasy that the blond was emitting were sending jolts of heat through Vincent’s body.
“Gods, Vince,” moaned the pilot. “Not gonna last much longer…”
Wanting things to last further than they were heading, Vincent finished with one last swipe of his tongue. “Can’t have that just yet,” he murmured softly, shaking his head slightly at the man’s muttered curses.
His right hand dove into the wadded sheets where he had stashed the bottle of lube as he crawled back up the pilot’s body, landing a few well placed kisses and nips as he did so.
He shared kisses with Cid as he blindly uncapped the lotion and poured some on to his hand. The pilot bit gently at his lips, swiping his tongue inside the gunman’s wet cavern and greedily sharing flavors. Vincent coated three fingers with the slippery liquid before guiding his hand down between the blond’s spread legs.
He pushed one finger into Cid’s entrance in the same moment that he moved to suck on his neck, planning on leaving another mark to match the other. He licked at the pilot’s tender skin as he carefully stretched him, the task easier due to his actions earlier. One finger, then two slid easily into the blond’s body.
Cid was no less busy, eagerly running his hands up and down his partner. He roamed calloused fingers over sensitive nipples and idly stroked Vincent’s dripping erection, causing the gunman to moan against his neck and collarbone where he was currently feasting.
Fingers brushed against his prostrate, and his hips nearly came off the bed, the urge to thrust nearly overwhelming the pilot. He whimpered softly as the ex-Turk pressed their mouths together once more, firmly adding the third finger. He was determined not to hurt the Captain as it had been some time since they had last been together like this. He brushed his fingers within the blond before feeling satisfied.
The ex-Turk flicked his tongue over Cid’s lips before he sat back on his heels, convinced that the other man had been properly stretched. Vincent grabbed the discarded bottle of lotion, moaning slightly as he slicked the moist substance over his straining erection. He allowed himself a glance at the man below him, tendrils of arousal coiling tightly at the flushed red look to Cid’s face and the brightness in his eyes as he leisurely stroked his own shaft. There was heat in the sky-blue gaze… and burning desire for the dark-haired man.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leaned over, smacking the pilot’s hand away long enough to take another taste of the weeping shaft. He rolled the sensitive head around his mouth and licked a long line up the shaft, satisfied with Cid’s aroused moans. After the teasing touch, he crept up the blond’s body and shared a short kiss.
“I love you,” he whispered softly, for the moment wanting to express the feelings in his heart.
Cid grabbed him, sharing another slow and sensual kiss before he released him. “Love ya… now get busy cause I’m dying here!”
Typical Cid.
The ex-Turk shook his head in what was a most familiar reaction before moving back down, settling between the blond’s spread legs.
He guided himself to the puckered entrance and slowly pushed himself into the tight ring. Cid winced slightly until the head popped past the muscle. For a brief moment, there was a jab of pain as the ex-Turk took him, having been so long. But at the first stroke and subsequent brush of his prostrate, all thoughts of pain flew from his mind.
He reached up with his hands, running them continuously over the ex-Turk’s skin as Vincent began to thrust into him at a slow and steady pace, carefully stretching him from the inside until he was ready for more forceful movements.
“I’m not made of glass,” the pilot growled impatiently.
Vincent tried to restrain the smirk threatening to break out on his face as he leaned forward, resting his weight on his hands. Cid’s legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he did so, and he stepped up the pace, thrusting into the pilot with more force. The blond moaned at the relentless onslaught of stimulation to his prostrate and clutched at Vincent’s shoulders, hips moving in time with the dark-haired man’s movements.
The scent of sex was heavy on the air as well as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh coupled with fierce moans of pleasure. It was nearly maddening to Vincent, the feel of sliding in and out of the pilot, being wrapped in tight, hot heat. It threatened to consume him. He leaned down to share a brief kiss with Cid before increasing his pace – if that were at all possible – feeling that his orgasm was very near.
The Captain snaked a hand between their bodies, gripping his cock firmly as he began to stroke. A fire was coiling in his belly, threatening to explode at any moment. He pumped himself harder as Vincent applied continuous stimulation to him within. For a moment, he swore spots danced in front of his eyes.
Cid came, half-screaming the gunman’s name as his fingers dug almost painfully into Vincent’s shoulders, and his legs tightened around his waist. His entire body shook with the force of his orgasm as he coated both his stomach and the ex-Turk’s chest with his seed. Vincent quickly followed him over the edge, succumbing to the sensations of being wrapped in tight, warm heat.
The two men collapsed against the bed, breathing heavily as sweat coated their bodies. Vincent struggled to roll over so that he was not crushing the somewhat shorter man as he attempted to calm his racing heart and allow his mind to return to his body. The feeling of familiarity and being home was wreaking havoc on his emotions, trying to turn him sentimental.
Hands ran over his bared chest as Cid half-turned and enveloped him in a bruising kiss. Vincent wrapped his own arms around the blond man, holding him close as their tongues tangled together with labored breathing against each other’s mouths.
“I see there were some things you did not forget,” teased the pilot almost breathlessly as he gently pulled back from the kiss.
Vincent shook his head in near disbelief at Cid. “Only you would have such a thing to say,” he commented quietly before frowning slightly. “Still… that was a rather… unfortunate way for me to regain my memory.” He was referring to what had occurred the night before.
Cid laughed. “That was an ungraceful tumble ya took down the stairs. If I hadn’t of been so concerned, I might have laughed. But now I feel like I can.”
A smile tugged at the corners of the gunman’s mouth. Six months and still nothing had changed; there was something immensely soothing in that fact. He didn’t respond, however, not really finding that he had anything to say that wasn’t extremely fluffy and sweet, something he really didn’t do.
After a parting kiss, the pilot rolled over and blindly reached on the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes he had stashed there. He shook out the carton and had just managed to get one of the sticks into his hand when it was plucked away and tossed into the trash near the door, a perfect score. He turned shocked eyes onto the gunman, who was already reaching for the pack.
“No,” Vincent explained, shaking his head. “You don’t need those anymore.”
“C’mon, Vince,” pleaded the pilot. “You can’t expect me to quit cold turkey.”
Yet, the look on the ex-Turk’s face was grim. “You’re killing yourself with these, Cid, and don’t think I don’t realize the reason why.” His voice dropped in volume, a bit of guilt creeping in.
The blond shook his head fiercely, dropping the pack on the floor and sitting up so that he could speak more freely, Vincent rising as well. “You can’t blame yourself for my choices,” returned the pilot. “I was smoking well before you came along.”
“Almost a pack a day?” questioned the gunman with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve lost weight… you look as if you hadn’t slept in months. Gods, Cid, you look like you’ve been trying to die!”
“Well, what do you fucking expect?” demanded Cid, nearly yelling. “You were gone, and I had nothing else. Nothing! I was nobody… not the Captain… not Cid! Dying would have been a relief!”
A dark shadow passed over the ex-Turk’s face as he regretted his words. The pain clearly evident in those sky-blue eyes shot straight to his heart, and he knew a guilt even stronger than his failure of Lucrecia. Without another word, he reached forward and grabbed the blond, pulling him into a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, apologizing for more than his words but also for the six months that the pilot had to suffer almost entirely alone.
Cid didn’t speak, trying to rein in the tears that were threatening to spill. He hadn’t cried in awhile, suppressing them after the first few weeks of Vincent being gone. He certainly didn’t want to start back again. After all, the ex-Turk was back. There was no longer a need for tears.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” replied the Captain gruffly, trying to cover up the lump in his throat as he grabbed the ex-Turk’s chin and kissed him gently, soothing the excessive remorse that he knew the guilt-prone man was beginning to build within him.
A smile tugged at the corner of Vincent’s mouth as the kiss ended. He looked into sky-blue eyes, again surprised by how much they made him feel warm and fluttery inside. Gah! He was becoming sappier by the minute.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” questioned the pilot.
The gunman shrugged. “No more so than anyone else. It only seems that way because we have unnaturally happy people to go by.”
Cid grinned. “You mean like Reeve and Reno and Rude and Shera?” He laughed lightly. “They are a rather unique pair, aren’t they?”
Vincent shook his head, shifting their position until they were both lying back down on the bed again, fatigue settling into him. He wouldn’t let go of the other man, however, sensing that for the moment, he needed to be touched.
“I’m sure that they say the same thing of us.”
The pilot grinned, reaching down for the scattered blankets and pulling them up over their figures. There was a bit of a chill to the air in the room, probably a result of the thermostat being set too high. Yet, rather than get up and check it, he felt conveniently lazy enough to just pull on the blankets.
He settled back down comfortably on the bed, not bothering to respond to Vincent’s comment because he had nothing to say. He was content to just lie there next to him, even if they did nothing else.
***
The emotions between the two just keep oscillating, don’t they?