Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Ice Redux ❯ Rising Desires ( Chapter 4 )

(This means inner thought)

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Chapter Four: Rising Desires

Vincent grimaced as he looked at the flashing lights and the bright colors of the theme park, Gold Saucer. He really hated places like this and strongly wished that it wasn’t necessary that they be there.

Unfortunately for him, wishes didn’t come true, not his at any rate.

Cloud and the others, himself included, had discovered that Sephiroth was heading for a place called the Temple of the Ancients. In order for them to open said Temple, they needed a special key called the Keystone. Some man in an isolated house, which they had miraculously stumbled upon thanks to Cloud’s useless sense of direction, had told them that Dio at Gold Saucer possessed the keystone, so there they were. Should he have mentioned that everything they had accomplished so far was blind luck rather than great leadership?

Vincent snorted to himself.

Cloud had been required to entertain dear Dio in order to get the keystone. The poor kid hadn’t last any longer than three rounds in the battle arena, and he had seemed pretty angry about it, but Dio had simply laughed and handed over the key. Vincent had thought then that they would be able to leave and get the hell out of this supposedly “happy” place. His left eye had started to develop a twitch, and no matter how much Tifa seemed to be enjoying herself, the gunman had been glad that Cloud was adamant about their departure.

Yet, little had they known that the damn transit train was going to break down, trapping them all here until the park employee’s got off their lazy asses and fixed the blasted thing. Which meant it was going to be later rather than sooner that they could finally leave, and there wasn’t much else for them to do but suffer, him especially. Surrounded by the glitz and glamour, the gaiety and the color, he felt suffocated by happiness. He knew, of all things, he didn’t deserve this.

Sighing to himself, Vincent followed the others into the brightly lit place. The cat-moogle thing had told them that they would all be offered free room and board at the hotel, so that was where they were heading now. He was only glad that the hotel had chosen a theme more suited to his tastes: ghosts and things that went bump in the night. The gloomy building would be the perfect place for him to hide while they waited for the tram to be fixed. But of course, before he could lock himself inside his room, Cloud decided that they all needed to have a meeting.

Oh joy.

The group of friends, or whatever they wanted to call each other, sat down in the common area, discussing their next move. Vincent wasn’t surprised when Cid promptly fell asleep as Aeris began her long tale, though the gunman personally found it vaguely interesting, all her nonsense about the Ancients and Sephiroth and finding the Promised Land. Truthfully, it sounded like nonsensical religious crap to him, but he didn’t bother to point that out. He did not think that anyone in the room would appreciate the comment.

He found it odd that no one mentioned the bizarre earthquake of a few nights past. They hadn’t received any more events since then, but still, it seemed so odd that one of them had yet to question it again. However, they were all strangely quiet on that front, and he sure wasn’t about to bring it up himself.

So he let his mind wander for some time until Cloud and Aeris finished their long discussion, which probably could have easily been squashed down into a few choice phrases, and told everyone that the night was their own. He was free to seek the solitude of his own room. Well, to be more precise, the one he would be sharing with Cid unless the Captain decided it was “safer” for him to room with Cloud and Barret.

Of course, Cid, the illustrious and avid listener that he was, chose that moment to snort and start awake. He glanced around blearily and sat up, finally realizing that almost everyone had left.

“Wha-What’s going on?” he asked Vincent, snagging the other man’s arm as he passed.

“You slept through the whole speech, Highwind,” the ex-Turk commented, neither answering his question nor caring what he thought.

Cid waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. In the past few days or so, the duo had developed an unlikely friendship that was really little more than a truce. Somehow, the kiss between them and that awkward night had been forgotten, and a strange sort of rhythm developed between them. The blond had learned how to be silent, and in thanks for that, the gunman gradually answered the questions that he asked. It was easier to speak to someone when they weren’t constantly regarding him with suspicion or fear, and due to that, Vincent accepted Cid’s presence above that of the others and did not push him away quite so forcefully.

Further, Cloud had gotten into this odd habit of keeping them together, and since he usually wanted Vincent in his party, Cid was the inevitable third choice. The ex-Turk had this sneaky suspicion that the swordsman trusted neither of them and wanted them nearby at all times. At least, the boy was getting slightly more intelligent. Perhaps there was hope for the future of Gaia after all… if Sephiroth or ShinRa didn’t kill them first.

“What do I really need to know, eh? Sephiroth’s the bad guy that’s gonna kill us all. We gotta stop him.” The pilot shrugged. “Big deal. Just point me in the direction of the bad guy, and I’m good,” Cid commented with a snort, stretching as he moved to stand. His bones cracked and popped, causing Vincent to wince before he realized he was even doing so.

The gunman shook his head, ignoring Cid, and started towards the stairs. Most of the others had headed towards Gold Saucer, intent on enjoying the attractions. He thought Cloud had gone to his room as well, but a few minutes later saw him getting dragged away by Aeris.

Cute.

Vincent fought the urge to grimace.

“So where’d everybody go?” Cid questioned as he lit up a cigarette, blue eyes watching Vincent with a strange expression. He knew exactly what the other man’s plans were going to be before the gunman even spoke them, and as his newly designated “friend”, Cid felt obligated to stop him. Or at least make another attempt at being “friendly” with the guy.

“Most have gone to enjoy Gold Saucer. As for me, I am going to bed,” Vincent answered curtly as he continued up the stairs.

Cid shook his head and darted forward, latching onto his arm and giving a great yank. Startled, Vincent fell backwards, landing almost completely in the pilot’s arms. His eyes widened in surprise, turning to regard the blond with a confused expression, one slowly replaced by irritation.

The other man smiled down at him, cigarette bouncing between his lips. “Well, well, what have we got here?” He tried to ignore the rush of arousal that threatened to thread through him at just the feel of the ex-Turk in his arms.

“Let go of me, Highwind,” Vincent ordered with a snarl, glaring at the pilot and pulling himself out of his grasp.

Cid was unperturbed, however. “C’mon, Vince, I want to go have fun, and I don’t wanna hafta go alone.” His grin widened. Vincent didn’t scare him, even with that deadly glare of his.

“I don’t have fun,” the dark-haired man snapped, wrangling himself free from and managing to put at least a small measure of distance between them. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively and frowned.

“Tonight, you’re gonna,” the pilot insisted, determined to befriend the reluctant man. “C’mon,” Cid stated, grinning from ear to ear. He latched onto Vincent’s arm again and started moving for the door, pulling the other male with him.

“Cid…” Vincent warned, trying to remove his arm from the pilot’s steel grasp. He didn’t even realize what he had said, too involved with trying to break free. It wasn’t that he was wholly adverse to the idea of going somewhere with Cid, as much as it was that they were in Gold Saucer of all places and he absolutely loathed the atmosphere. He knew that the more time he spent one-on-one with the pilot the more likely he was to do something the both of them would regret. He didn’t want to have that on his conscience.

The blond stopped suddenly, turning to look at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Holy fucking shit, Vince,” Cid whispered, mouth slightly agape. He allowed his hold on the gunman to go slack for the briefest of moments.

“What?” the gunman asked, eyes turning dark.

“You called me Cid. Not Highwind… but Cid. Maybe I am getting through to you…” the pilot trailed off before a huge grin covered his features, and determination settled firmly in his body. Even if he was in danger of losing a limb, he was going to make Mr. Vampire have fun, or his name wasn’t Captain Highwind.

Vincent violently yanked himself away and started to stalk away, choosing not to respond. In some fashion, he felt that he was being teased, and he hated that above all things.

Cid once more tried pleading with him, rubbing a hand through his hair as he realized the mistake he had made. “Ah, c’mon, Vince--”

“Stop calling me that!” Vincent whirled around and gave the blond pilot his most ruthless glare, crimson eyes glinting with an almost evil shine. He hated nicknames. Not even when he was a Turk had he allowed them to give him a code name.

The blond sighed and acquiesced to his request. “Alright, Vincent, don’t go back up to the room and sulk. Please? Jes for one night?” He put on his best puppy eyes, not at all afraid of the stare that was directed at him.

Vincent chewed the flesh of his inner cheek in indecision, torn between wanting to hide in his room and being somewhat affected by Cid’s look. Honestly, a grown man begging?

Sighing heavily, the ex-Turk gave into the inevitable and turned back towards the exit. “Will you cease calling me by those ridiculous nicknames?” he inquired as he headed out the door, cloak swirling behind him.

“Sure!” Cid answered as he hurried to catch up. “So, uh, whatcha wanna do, Vin… uh er, Vincent?”

His left eye twitched again. “You tell me. I simply wanted to sit in the room,” Vincent pointed out.

“Hm,” responded Cid, quickly reaching for a cigarette, like it was second nature to him. More than likely, it was. “Good point.” He puffed on the nicotine in thought, considering the many attractions offered at Gold Saucer. The blond looked at each, trying to decide which would be the best to please his increasingly irritated companion.

The gunman shifted where he stood, shooting a longing glance back towards the hotel. “If this is the supposed fun you have to offer me, Highwind, then I believe returning to the hotel room will be better,” he remarked dryly.

“Aw, shuddap!” Cid stated, scratching his head as he fought down the slight burn of embarrassment that threatened to redden his cheeks. He very nearly felt like a teenager on his first date. He looked over the tombstones one more time before grabbing Vincent’s arm and jumping in one, seemingly at random. After a rather fast ride through a tunnel, the duo found themselves deposited at the Speed Attraction.

“What is here?” Vincent asked. He hadn’t explored inside Gold Saucer earlier and knew nothing of the attractions. He was instantly faced with brightly flashing lights, however, and he grimaced.
Cid simply smiled. “You’ll see.”

He led Vincent to the entrance and paid the lady at the booth for both of them. It was a one person ride, but with Vincent’s slim body, they managed to both just fit.

Handing Vincent the small laser gun designed for the ride, Cid explained what it was. “See? We ride this track, and along the way, targets pop up. You shoot them to get points. Shoot enough of ‘em, and you win something special.” He grinned at his brilliant idea. How else could he get the gunman to come out of his shell but to show him something that the man enjoyed?

“And I suppose you want me to do the shooting?” Vincent queried with a slightly amused tone.

“Shit yeah! If I did it, we wouldn’t win nothing!” Cid proclaimed loudly, grinning ear to ear.

With a sudden lurch, the little cart began to move on the tracks, and almost immediately, the targets popped up in random directions and shapes. Comical, nearly carnival music, sprouted through the air around them, reverberating around the cavern of the ride. From the balloons to the toy airplanes to stars and cacti, it all was utterly ridiculous.

Yet, Vincent found himself enjoying the experience as he carefully and almost effortlessly, shot every target. It was nice for once to practice his marksmanship without having to worry about his life or the lives of his companions. Without monsters looming down on them, it was a pleasant change, and Cid couldn’t help but watch in admiration.

He felt a familiar stirring in his groin as he watched the other man hit each target and cursed himself inwardly. Ever since the day in the tent when they had shared a single kiss, he hadn’t been able to get Vincent out of his mind. He wanted him in a bad way, and it was starting to take a toll.

Cid shifted in his seat, unable to get away from the warm press of Vincent against his side. Perhaps the close confines of the Speed Attraction weren’t such a good idea after all.

Yet, the ride was over soon enough, which had him heaving a sigh of relief. Not that he hated being that close to Vincent, more like it was bringing up all kinds of erotic images in his mind that him surreptitiously adjusting himself when the ex-Turk wasn’t looking. Still, as they departed the ramp, Vincent looked extremely pleased with himself. However, the two were immediately bombarded with Gold Saucer employees, who were talking excitedly about breaking records and winning the big prize.

By the time everything was sorted out, Vincent had his name printed on some billboard and won a free stay in Gold Saucer complete with food. There were some other minor prizes as well that Cid didn’t felt like mentioning. He did, however, find the small bottle of lube that was presented to them amusing and idly wondered if there would even be a use for it. As it was, the words slipped from his lips before he could prevent them.

“Well, still keen on returning to the room?” the pilot asked, and he nearly slapped himself in the head. He didn’t mean that the way it sounded, or maybe he did. He wasn’t quite sure. Luckily, Vincent didn’t seem to notice the not-so-subtle hint.

“You planned this didn’t you?” the gunman demanded almost playfully, casting a suspicious eye on the pilot.

“Who, me?” the blond asked innocently. His gaze continued to trail to the basket of goodies they had won, the bottle of oil glinting at him mischievously. Not so innocent thoughts began to trickle through his mind.

“Shut up, Highwind, and lead on.”

Cid beamed, with a playful salute. “Yes sir!”

---

All in all, Vincent could say that for the first time since he had departed his coffin, he had fun… or something close to it. From winning all the prizes at the Speed Event to earning more GP than he would ever know what to do with and eating and drinking with Cid at the restaurant, he had an enjoyable night. It was relaxing, almost making him feel human once more.

Full of food, arms stuffed with prizes, and having consumed a decent amount of liquor, the two finally made their way back to the hotel and the small room that they had to share. They stumbled slightly, but Vincent hadn’t really drank that much and Cid had a greater tolerance than he. They had pleasant buzzes, but nothing that would take away their judgment.

Still, Vincent wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute they were dumping their winnings on the floor of their room, getting ready to crawl sleepily between the sheets, and the next, he was attacking Cid with his mouth, kissing him like they were going to die tomorrow. It seemed throughout the entire night the gunman had been trying to ignore the erotic desires that had been building within him. He remembered the feel of the pilot’s mouth well from their first kiss and had desired another taste ever since.

He had been trying to push away his feelings, mostly because he did not understand them. He liked men and women both but never men like Cid Highwind, so he did not understand where his sudden attraction for the foul-mouthed pilot came from. All he knew was that his nights were filled with dreams of them doing the most erotic things.

And he wasn’t supposed to allow himself these carnal pleasures or happiness in any form, not with the path he had laid for himself. He had revenge to exact, a past to lay to rest, peace to find for Lucrecia. Where in that equation was there room for beginning a new relationship… and with a man at that? To him, it felt like he was betraying Lucrecia in some fashion, but then, a tongue slid over his lips, and it was forgotten.

Vincent moaned slightly when Cid opened his mouth to let him in, his calloused hands finding a rest on the gunman’s chest. Vincent unconsciously leaned into the touch, seeking the warmth of the other man’s body, and the pilot’s fingers danced over the smooth fabric of the ex-Turk’s shirt before reaching upward for the clasps that held his cloak in place.

It was the unsnapping of the first button that brought Vincent out of his desire-induced fog. He jerked his head away from Cid, giving him a slight push back from him as he gathered his cloak tightly around himself. His lips tingled, his mind reeled, and his body was aching in places that had been dormant for far too long.

“What the hell have you done to me?” the former Turk demanded, eyes flashing. He hated how defensive he sounded but knew no other way to find some level ground. Every time he was around the pilot he felt like he was spinning out of control, and he couldn’t stop himself. There was an undeniable pull, something physical and there, and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Me? You started it this time, Vin, not the other way around.” Cid flushed, face darkening with both anger and embarrassment, especially since he was sporting a painfully hard erection. This happened every time! They got so fucking close, and suddenly, Vincent had a change of heart. He wanted to know why?

“You’ve cast a spell on me or something similar. I just know it!” Vincent snarled, beginning to pace. “Ever since that night, your face, your touch, it haunts me, and I can think of nothing but touching you!” he spat angrily, directing a glare at the pilot, who could only look at him dumbfounded.

“Me? I can build a damn plane, but love spells are not my thing,” Cid said, shaking his head in denial. “Besides, I thought it was you doing something to me!” When backed into a corner, he did what any normal man would do: come out swinging. He could tell that there was a mutual attraction, so why was Vincent trying so damn hard to deny it?

“I don’t sleep with men!” Vincent stated furiously, stopping to scowl at Cid. He knew it was an utter lie, but he was desperately trying to gain control of himself and the situation.

The pilot remained unimpressed by his denial, sky blue eyes flickering to the obvious bulge in Vincent’s pants. “Well, you certainly want to right now,” he pointed out accusingly.

The gunman cursed before he turned and strode up to the pilot. “This is your fault!” he hissed, standing eye to eye with Cid.

“Look, Vince,” the blond began, trying to ignore the fierce look on Vincent’s face. “There are no such things as love spells, and you damn well know it. Quit trying to run away from what’s really going on here.”

“Oh?” Vincent demanded. “And what would that be? Please enlighten me, oh learned one, of my obvious insufficiencies,” he replied in a sarcastic tone.

Cid chewed on his bottom lip in an effort to rein in his irritation, heaving a great sigh before cursing inwardly. “Fuck you, Vince,” he replied instead, voice sharp and bitter as he whirled on his heels and stalked towards his bed. “I never should have tried to give a fucking damn,” he muttered to himself as he flopped down, presenting his rigid back to the gunman.

For a moment, Vincent could do nothing but stare at Cid’s back, fighting inwardly with himself. He had succeeded in pushing the pilot away but now regretted it. His entire body ached, shaking with need and desire. He was intensely aroused, slightly drunk, and unable to do anything about the annoying and confusing feelings flooding through him. He clenched his fists in an attempt to regain control.

He was not going to give in. He was not going to give in. He was not going to give in.

Hell! What would one time really matter? Perhaps that was all he needed, one night with the pilot, and he would be satisfied enough.

With that firmly entrenched, he swiftly made his way to Cid’s bed and wrapped his arms around the pilot, kissing the back of his neck. Vincent nearly melted at the feeling of the warmth, the achingly familiar sensation of having a body pressed to his own. It was such a welcome distraction from the cold, lifelessness of his coffin, and Cid’s skin felt so warm against his lips, sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his groin where his cock surged in his pants.

Yet, the pilot resisted, if only at first. “You’re acting like an asshole,” Cid accused, though his body betrayed him, arching back into the touch. It appeared that his words were only a token denial.

Vincent paused as he considered, unable to deny the truth. “Yes,” he commented softly, his breath puffing gently across the back of Cid’s neck as he pushed their bodies even further together, trailing gentle kisses along whatever skin he could reach.

The Captain growled but could not ignore the heat that rushed through him. It had been some time since anyone had affected him like this, and it was a heady notion. He sighed in acquiescence before turning over quickly, surprising Vincent with his actions. Before the gunman could say another word, the pilot latched onto his lips, pressing insistently against him and rubbing a leg across the hardened bulge he could feel in the front of Vincent’s pants.

The other man eagerly slipped his tongue inside Cid’s mouth, tasting a flavor that was already frighteningly familiar to him, and he rubbed their groins together. Sparks of pleasure raced through him, and he moaned, balancing himself on his claw as he used his flesh hand to pry the clothes off of his companion. He was slightly embarrassed at how he fumbled about like a virgin.

Regardless, he devoured the blond’s mouth hungrily, delighting in the feel and taste of flesh against flesh. It had been so long since he had last had any type of physical contact other than their previous kisses.

Cid’s own hands roamed up and down Vincent’s body, unbuckling clasps and undoing belts. He cursed in his mind as he fumbled with the many straps, buttons, and clasps. Why in hell did a man need so many of the damn things?

Vincent’s mouth suddenly moved away, trailing kisses from his lips to his chin and nibbling down his neck until he reached the sensitive area of his collarbone. The pilot could only moan quietly at the sparkling feelings that raced down his spine, but Cid gave a small shout of victory when he finally got the damn cloak free and pushed it off. Soon, the belt followed, but in trying to undress each other at the same time, their limbs became tangled along with their clothes.

A sense of urgency set in, and the two reluctantly broke apart, ripping off their own garments. Cloaks, jackets and pants went flying in all directions, and Cid could only gasp at the beauty of Vincent’s body, despite the many scars that he saw. All because of that damn Hojo, or so he had heard. Vincent didn’t speak of it much, and the blond wasn’t about to pry into such painful things. Nevertheless, Vincent had mostly smooth, ivory skin and was rather lean, which suited him.

Yet, a second later, Cid finally found himself completely nude, Vincent pouncing on him. He wrapped an arm around the gunman and latched onto his lips, pressing insistently into his mouth, and he curled his other hand into Vincent’s hair, pulling out the headband so that the dark tresses fell free. He tangled it around his fingers.

Vincent pressed himself against the pilot, all other thoughts abandoned. He rubbed his groin into Cid, moaning as their erection’s touched and sent shocking waves of pleasure through both of them. He reached out with his flesh hand and grabbed onto the blond’s arousal, stroking it. Cid moaned as he sucked on the other man’s tongue, delighting in the feel of the gunman’s hand.

“You realize,” Vincent started, his voice little more than a breathy gasp, as he pulled back to look into Cid’s eyes, “that I am seme.”

“You’ve done this before.” It was a statement, almost an accusation, especially considering how much Vincent had denied his attraction in the beginning.

The former Turk narrowed his eyes, refusing to respond.

Cid waved his hand in dismissal even as Vincent stroked along his length again, drawing out a breathy moan. “Fine… I don’t care… just fuck me.” And he truly didn’t either. Top, bottom, it didn’t matter to him; both were equally pleasurable, not to mention he had the feeling that if he had said no, all erotic motions would cease at that very moment. He was too far gone to back out now.

“You don’t have to ask twice,” Vincent growled as he pressed forward into Cid, knocking him off balance so that he fell backwards onto the bed. Vincent came crashing down on top of him, and for a moment they were pressed together, skin against skin.

Vincent edged one leg in between Cid’s thighs, even as his mouth devoured the pilot’s. He trailed kisses, nipping lightly as he worked down the blond’s chin, neck and collarbone. Cid writhed beneath him, hands outstretched, searching, touching on whatever he could grab. Calloused fingers pinched Vincent’s nipples as another hand ran itself through his silky hair, tugging it with eagerness, and with a great heave, Vincent put his hands under the pilot’s body and moved him further up onto the bed.

Pressing his claw gently against Cid’s chest to hold him down, Vincent sat up, ghosting one finger down the pilot as he knelt between his legs. Finally coming to a halt at Cid’s arousal, he wrapped his hand firmly around it as he bent over ever so slowly, mouth hovering over. The Captain moaned again, hands clutching at the sheets. He could feel Vincent’s warm breath, the teasing touch more than enough to make him plea silently for release.

The gunman gently licked it once, and Cid’s hips nearly came off the bed with the feeling. Vincent had to hold back a smile as he pressed firmly down on him, holding him in place. Taking pity on the gasping pilot, the ex-Turk wrapped his mouth around his entire length, sucking and licking as the blond squirmed beneath him. He let go of his cock and reached up, placing his fingers near Cid’s mouth.

Without question or prompting, the blond took them in his mouth, sucking gently, tongue flicking over them. Once he felt they were sufficiently coated, he removed them and brought them down towards Cid’s entrance. While he pleasured Cid with his mouth, he slowly pressed one saliva-coated finger past the tight ring of muscle, stretching him, preparing him for something much larger.

Slowly, carefully, he added another finger, and then a third, moving them around. He felt for that special gland that would send Cid into a frenzy, and he knew he had found it when Cid arched up off the bed, emitting a sharp gasp and erupting into a string of curses.

“Dammit, enough!” the pilot panted, glaring fiercely. “Quit teasing. Do something.” The last came out as almost a desperate plea, and despite himself, Vincent found he chuckled lightly.

He raised a brow as he swiped his tongue a last time over the head of Cid’s arousal. “Dry, Highwind? I didn’t know you were into pain.”

Cid scoffed. “I’m not.” He gestured towards the pile of crap they had amassed and dumped onto the floor of their room. “Lube. There. Go.”

Vincent again fought down his laughter as he eased his way off the mattress and padded silently over to the basket, digging around until he found the lube. It was fortunately unscented. Seconds later, he was back where he wanted to be, tanned legs draped on either side of his hips as he pressed two oil-slicked fingers past the pilot’s tight ring.

As he pushed in the third digit, curling his fingers so that they brushed along Cid’s prostate, Vincent idly remarked to himself how there was very little awkwardness between them. This was their first time having sex, but he was oddly at ease. There were no uncomfortable pauses or questionings. Instead, they just smoothly fell into place.

It was strange and yet comfortable, something that he found highly disturbing for a one-night stand. But he pushed those distracting thoughts out of his mind as he removed his fingers from Cid and slicked up his own erection, sliding his body forward until the head of his arousal was placed just at the blond’s entrance. He waited for some signal from the pilot before progressing, lifting his eyes to meet blue ones. He almost chuckled at the frustrated look on Cid’s face, spear-calloused hands clutched tightly onto the comforter of the hotel bed. It was all the permission he needed.

Vincent nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and slowly began to press in. He had to stifle back a moan at the feeling of being surrounded, and below him, Cid’s face scrunched up with discomfort and tinges of pain. Not wanting to hurt him more than necessary, Vincent pushed completely into the other man in one quick thrust.

Cid groaned. The pain was intense, but the sensation of being filled began to turn pleasurable. For a moment, Vincent just sat there, eyes closed as he savored the intense feeling of being sheathed within the pilot, who finally realized that the ex-Turk was waiting for a sign from him.

Shifting his hips slightly, Cid pressed himself downward, letting the gunman know that he was ready. Vincent pulled out slowly before he thrust back in again, picking up the pace carefully. He groaned when he felt a blistering heat spread through him, the sensations all too much for him to handle, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

Suddenly, the gunman shifted his position and weight, angling himself differently. He thrust downwards, and Cid screamed with the pleasure, his hips bucking upwards to meet Vincent’s thrust. He wrapped his legs tighter around the other man’s waist, pulling him closer and deeper.

Vincent smirked. “I take it that you like?”

He ignored the gunman’s teasing, instead gripping onto his arms and squeezing tightly to encourage him. “Fuck, don’t stop, Vince.” Cid moaned as his cock continued to seep.

Vincent nodded, unable to speak as he pumped his hips, his own aching need burying itself deeply inside with each move. The pilot was so tight around him, squeezing his length, and he increased the tempo of his thrusting as Cid rose to meet him each time. Their bodies moved in tandem, lost to the waves of pleasure that arose.

He wrapped his claw around the sheets, not trusting himself to touch Cid with it as he gripped onto the blond’s arousal with his flesh hand, pumping him to the beat of their thrusts. He rubbed a thumb across the head of Cid’s cock, leaning forward enough to absorb the resulting moan with a heated kiss.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, coupled with their intermittent groans and moans, filled the air. Pleasure built up within Cid, coiling tightly with the force of his impending orgasm and threatening to overwhelm him at any moment. He reached up with one hand and tangled his fingers in Vincent’s hair, keeping the gunman in place as he locked their lips together and bucked up into the hand stroking him continuously. He was very nearly there.

Vincent was not faring much better. His breathing was ragged, and he finally lost the battle with restraint, letting go all rhythm as he pounded into the pilot mercilessly, though it didn’t seem that Cid minded. The blond’s orgasm washed over him with the force of a tsunami, his cock exploding in the gunman’s hand. The rhythmic clenching of Cid’s body around Vincent was the ex-Turk’s undoing as his own release was wrenched from his body, accompanied by a deep and throaty moan.

Gasping tiredly, Vincent collapsed onto Cid’s chest. For a moment, neither of them moved, just relaxed in the afterglow. Sweat trickled down their bodies, the heavy scent of musk and sex filtering around them.

Using the last bits of his strength, Vincent pulled out and rolled over to the side. He laid next to his lover, eyes closing on their own accord. He felt fatigued but also slightly energized, as if a part of him once dead had newly awakened.

He dangled his claw off the edge of the bed, determined not to tear the bedding any further and waited for his body to come down from its orgasmic high, his breath slowly evening. Beside him, Cid stretched, purred, and rolled over, bringing a blanket with him and casually throwing it over both of them.

For the night, it would be all right. At least, this was what Vincent told himself. What could it hurt, just sleeping this once with someone beside him? What could it hurt to accept that small measure of comfort?

So when Cid tossed a leg over his and promptly began to drift off into sleep, he didn’t protest, merely accepting it for what it was. He didn’t bother to think of what could be. Instead, Vincent scooted just a smidgeon closer to the Captain, absorbing the warmth that Cid practically radiated as he felt himself drifting off. Perhaps his sleep would be restful for once.

---

“Hey, Vincent! Cid! Cloud says to get your asses moving ‘cause we all leavin’ today!!” Yuffie’s screeching voice loudly transcended the thick wood that served as the door to their room in the hotel.

Vincent jerked awake, slightly disorientated and inwardly cursing the sound of the little ninja’s voice. For the moment, he didn’t remember where he was. He tried to get up but felt a heavy warm weight on his side and over his legs. Blinking blearily, he tried to discern what the hell was going on. A manly groan immediately drew his attention. The weight on him shifted, and he found himself looking into a pair of very vivid and blue eyes.

Then, it all came crashing back: the two of them together, Cid crying out in ecstasy beneath him, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

And now, the pilot was giving him a look. He knew exactly how to classify it, and Vincent suddenly realized that he may have made a terrible mistake. He had nothing to offer, nothing at all, and perhaps, they may have gone too far.

The gunman moved, surprising even himself with his determination to get out of bed as swiftly as possible. However, he was halted by a firm grip on his wrist as he fell, crashing back into the mattress. He landed on top of the Captain, who subsequently wrapped both his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

“Where the hell do you think yer goin’?” Cid demanded in a gruff but sleepy voice.

His mind ground to a halt, paused, and rewound as he struggled to gain a hold on his own emotions. He ignored the warmth emanating from the body beneath him and the natural way it felt to be held there, instead concentrating on what he was supposed to be accomplishing. That had nothing to do with what he actually wanted or desired.

“Strife has called for us,” he answered coolly. “We are leaving.”

“And suddenly, you are that eager to respond to his *@#$%& call?” Cid snorted. “You aren’t goin’ nowhere until we talk this out.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” the Vincent said carefully, struggling to pull free. He could still smell the scent of musk and sex all around them.

Again, the pilot snorted disbelievingly, his hold inexplicably tightening. “If that was true, then you wouldn’t have tried to bolt from the bed like a Malboro was on yer tail!”

Vincent went utterly and completely still. “Let go, Highwind.” He desired to escape, and he couldn’t think with Cid wrapped around him like that. He could scarcely breathe.

“Oh, back to last names again?” The annoyance was clear in the blond’s tone, but he kept his hold.

Vincent remained silent. He did not want to respond the prying questions. In truth, his mind was still replaying the images from the previous night over and over. That, and the close proximity to Cid’s still naked body, was making him feel hot all over. He had thought that afterwards there would not be anything more between them. He had never been more wrong, and it terrified him. He wouldn’t go through another Lucrecia. He couldn’t.

“Why are you trying to deny it, Vince?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Quit avoiding the question.”

Vincent sighed. “Strife will be highly annoyed.”

“Like you give a fuck what he thinks. I’m not lettin’ you go until you answer my questions.”

The ex-Turk was silent for a moment, a swirl of emotions running through his mind. He had thoroughly enjoyed last night, more so than he had ever thought he would, and that scared him. He was confused and was not sure what to think. With Cid demanding answers, he felt as if he was locked into a corner. He needed time to think, and he wasn’t being allowed that. He desperately sought to get some space, and so said the only thing he could think of.

“It was nothing, Highwind. Now, let me go.” His voice was cold, hard, completely devoid of any trace of emotion. It even surprised him how utterly lifeless it had sounded.

Cid’s grip slackened, and Vincent took that opportunity to scramble away from him and off the bed. He avoided looking into the pilot’s eyes as he searched the floor for his clothing, wanting to put some type of layer between them. He turned his back to the blond, although he could still feel the intent stare right between his shoulder blades.

After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, Cid rose, angrily searching for his clothes as well. His movements were jerky, exhibiting his irritation.

“Nothing, huh?” he spat, his voice tinged with hurt and anger.

“Don’t put emotion where there was none, Highwind,” Vincent commented coolly. He had yet to look at the pilot as he dressed, instead staring at the ground.

“You’re a fucking liar, Vincent, and you know it,” Cid swore, angrily pulling up his jeans and zipping them up, albeit carefully. He searched the ground for his goggles and scarf, scooping them up with an annoyed grunt.

The gunman shrugged his shoulders, attempting nonchalance and pulling it off rather well. “It was a love spell gone awry, Highwind. Get over it. I’m sure you’ve had one-night stands before; this was no different.”

He still hadn’t looked at Cid, so he didn’t see all the color drain out of the other man’s face, only to be replaced with the red of anger. “There’s no such thing as a fucking love spell!” he retorted.

And the ex-Turk only felt the fist slam into his face as the angry pilot stormed past him, muttering curses. The door swung open and slammed shut, leaving Vincent alone in the room, rubbing his sore cheek and licking the blood off his lips.

It was for the best… or so he tried to convince himself. At this point, they didn’t need the distraction, the worry. It was only supposed to be a one-time thing, a way of getting his silly infatuation out of the way. But now, he was more confused than before, and something inside of him ached. It shouldn’t, but it did.

Why did it hurt so much?

---

The betrayal of Cait Sith was taken rather well considering the circumstances. If anything, it only strengthened the hatred of ShinRa already in existence. In truth, the stuffed moogle was correct in saying that it was done and over with. They all really had no choice but to continue on.

Still, each reacted in their own way to the incident. Barret was the hardest to calm down, cursing and vowing to destroy the toy for putting his daughter in danger. Aeris gave him her most disappointed look, which was enough to make anyone feel guilty. Vincent simply shrugged, utterly unsurprised. Cloud, being the leader, understood the situation and restrained from destroying the toy. Tifa and Nanaki were both surprisingly silent, while Yuffie vowed to tear it limb from limb, planning to sneakily steal its material at the same time.

But it was Cid’s reaction to the event that startled everyone most of all. He just looked at Cait Sith furiously before turning away, eyes flickering to Vincent for a second, but only the gunman caught the look, fortunately. The blond then muttered something under his breath that they strained to hear before stalking off towards the newly fixed tram… if it had ever even been broken to begin with.

“His was not the only betrayal.” The rest of the companions could only stare after the departing pilot in shock.

“He’s pissier than usual.” Yuffie commented with a snort as she hefted up her shuriken and took off after him, Nanaki trotting at her side.

“Yuffie,” Aeris said with a sigh, shaking her head at the ninja’s antics. “Perhaps if you didn’t aggravate him so much.”
Beside her, Tifa sniffed. “Doubtful. He’s just an asshole. And it’s not like that’s going to change.” She and Barret joined the flower-girl in heading towards the tram, Cloud trailing behind them at a more sedate pace, face scrunched in deep thought. He had suspicions, however, and wasn’t going to voice them just yet.

This left Vincent and Cait Sith the last remaining, the toy’s shoulders dropping visibly until the gunman moved to stand beside him. He put his hand lightly on the stuffed moogle’s shoulder, gaining his attention. He stared off after the retreating figures, eyes narrowed slightly.

“There are always reasons,” he said simply, voice low but reassuring.

Cait Sith looked up at him, clearly confused, staring up into the gunman’s face. There was a troubled look in his red eyes, a look that made the toy almost feel as if there was a kinship.

Then, the hand was gone, and the former Turk was swiftly moving towards the tram, the link broken. Cait Sith paused for a moment before hurrying to catch up. After all, they had not forbid him from coming along. And perhaps, in some way, he could find a way to make it up to them.

Vincent was right. There were always reasons, and sometimes, it was better for all those involved if they just didn’t know them.

* * *

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