Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Ice Redux ❯ Chapter 33: Not a Perfect Person ( Chapter 33 )

Chapter Thirty-Three: Not a Perfect Person

 

Nanaki inhaled sharply as the airship gave just the slightest hitch. The pilot seemed to still be having trouble with his landing. The demi-human easily regained his balance, rocking with the movement as he stood waiting patiently in the cargo bay.

 

Cloud's order left little room for argument. They were facing a foe from which there was small chance of survival. It was only apt that they get their business in order before the end, and he had given them three days. It was actually kind of him.

 

As for Nanaki, well, it was time for him to go home, if only for a short while. It was fine with him because he was could to see his Grandfather again, but he couldn't help the tiny pangs in his heart at the fact that he wouldn't get to be with Yuffie for a few days. There was something about being with the ninja girl that made him feel alive and completely human, no matter what form his body took. She had an unfailingly exuberant exterior and a contemplative, calm interior that she rarely showed the others. It made him feel special that he was one of the rare few to see that side of her.

 

Another rough gust of wind battered at the descending airship, and it swayed just a bit more. Nanaki cursed under his breath and grabbed a handhold to wait it out. He still wasn't too keen on the whole flying bit, believing whole-heartedly that feet should stay in the vicinity of the ground.

 

After Cloud had ordered them all “to just go”, a few had stood around, trying to figure out exactly where he meant. Nanaki knew instantly that he wanted to return home and made certain to tell the pilot first. However, something told him that his reasons were not just for Cosmo Canyon. Perhaps he would go to his father's grave again. None of the monsters in the Gi Nattak cave could bother him as strong as he was now.

 

On further contemplation, he realized that he planned to do exactly that. Perhaps he would be able to draw strength simply from seeing Seto.

 

“Nanaki, you would leave without saying goodbye?” came the very recognizable voice of Yuffie Kisaragi.

 

The demi-human turned from his musings and greeted his young friend. Well, considering his current form, they were around the same age.

 

“Sorry, but we were already close to the canyon when I told the pilot to drop me off. I hardly had time to grab a few things.”

 

She pouted as she crossed her arms and huffed. “Yeah right; you know you just would miss me too much.”

 

He smiled at her. Perhaps there was truth to the matter.

 

“Are you going home?”

 

She nodded and moved to stand beside him, staring out the small window in the bay door. “Gotta see the old man before the world ends; let him know I'm not about to give up yet!!” She grinned then, flashing him one of her devious looks. “I'm still running a bit low on materia,” she added casually, hinting with little innocence.

 

“Oh?” Nanaki teased holding up a small, green ball. “Like the one you just swiped from me?”

 

Her mouth dropped as her hand dug into the pocket where she had stuffed the pilfered materia. “Nanaki, you've gotten sneaky.”

 

“Have to keep up with you somehow, ne?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, putting the materia back into its proper slot on his armlet.

 

She grinned broadly at him until she felt the airship give a slight bump, indicating that it had successfully completed its landing. A solemn look came over her face as the ramp began to descend and the bay doors opened.

 

“You're coming back, right?”

 

He reached out and pulled her into a hug, which she returned with equal vigor. “If I didn't, Cloud and the others would be fighting materia-less, ne?”

 

She laughed at that, pulling away as the doors finished rolling open with a clank and rattle. The old man really needed to get to fixing that.

 

“Hey, I'm not that bad!” Yuffie protested.

 

He looked down at her smiling face and felt his heart begin to race. She was a beautiful girl; there was no doubt about that.

 

“No, you're not. You had better be coming back as well.”

 

The little ninja stuck out a hand as if to shake. “It's a promise.”

 

Nanaki reached out and grasped warmly. “A promise.”

 

He didn't understand why he did it or what compelled him, but something about the moment felt right, like he couldn't leave without saying a proper goodbye. And with the sun setting behind them and knowing it was time for him to go, Nanaki gave a small pull. Yuffie gasped and stumbled forwards into his waiting arms, and she looked up at him with confusion. However, he silenced her questions when he leaned down and claimed her lips with his own.

 

The ninja felt soft to him, unbelievably soft, and her mouth parted willingly on a breathy sigh. He gave her a tentative swipe with his tongue, just getting a taste of the exotic and sweet flavor before pulling back, as if surprised by what he had done.

 

Instantly, he felt embarrassment wash over his features and his cheeks reddened. “Um… g--goodbye, Miss Kisaragi,” he stuttered before taking off down the ramp and into the Cosmo Canyon area.

 

Mentally, the demi-human cursed himself as he ran towards his home. He was a fool. What if he had just damaged their relationship permanently?

 

Yuffie stared after him, a dreamy expression on her face as a hand unconsciously went to her lips, and there was lingering sensation of his mouth on hers. The ninja instantly blushed at the thought as she mechanically reached forward and pressed the button that would close the cargo bay doors.

 

She knew the incident would remain on her thoughts, even as she headed home.

 

- - -

 

Vincent pressed his lover up against the door, swallowing the blond's lips in a fervent kiss as he pushed a knee between Cid's legs hungrily. Slowly, he ground his hips into the pilot's, eliciting a breathy moan that only made him want to ravish Cid even more. He hurriedly unbuckled the scarlet cloak and flung it across the floor, also removing the headband that restrained his hair. They were just scraps of clothing that were unnecessary for the moment, at least to the gunman's aroused mind.

 

Cid had no complaints as he was pushed forcefully up against a solid surface. Indeed, his libido would have smacked him silly if he even thought to protest. It came as no surprise that after Cloud had made his proclamation Vincent had practically dragged him to his room. There was a sense of urgency in his touches, a note of desperation in the kiss that made Cid believe Vincent was simply craving the physical pleasure and intimacy. That something inside of him wanted to convince himself he was still human underneath the form of a monster.

 

The pilot reached around the gunman and pulled Vincent closer to him, putting their bodies as close to each other as possible and deepening their kiss. He stroked his tongue over the other man's, absorbing the breathy moan that the action produced with a shiver.

 

And yet, this time seemed different. Vincent was being a bit more forceful than usual, and he was also taking his time, slowly exploring the blond's body and lingering in his kisses. Something inside Cid knew that it wasn't just about the fight with Hojo that had made his lover act in such a way. And he also knew that he wasn't about to let Vincent have all the control this time.

 

His instincts were telling him that this was the time, the moment to finally put their slowly budded trust to the test. He was going to make love to Vincent this time around, to prove that he truly cared. He was going to show that the memories Vincent feared facing were just that. Memories.

 

They would be replaced with something better.

 

Breaking off the kiss, albeit reluctantly, Cid tangled his fingers in Vincent's raven tresses and tilted the man's head down towards his, looking deeply into red eyes. There was lust there and a fiery need but also the hint of something more. And it was that hint that drove Cid to finally say what he had wanted to say for a while now.

 

“Let me show you what it is to be human,” the Captain said gently, rubbing a calloused thumb over Vincent's soft cheek.

 

It was probably the first time the other man had ever heard such a gentle tone to the pilot's voice, and despite the suggestion, it warmed something inside of him, soothing the unnatural apprehension that threatened to build.

 

Vincent's eyes narrowed. “I already told you--“

 

Cid shook his head, interrupting whatever reason he knew was going to come out of Vincent's mouth. “Yer the same size as me, Vince. I don't wanna hear that bullshit excuse anymore… as complimentary it may be.” He lowered his tone, continuously rubbing his thumb over the pale cheek that was already beginning to flush with emotion.

 

“I understand now, even if ya didn't,” he continued. “All I ask is that ya trust me to make you feel good. You once came to me with the same offer to make the pain go away. Can't I do the same?”

 

To any other person, it was a logical argument. But fear and trepidation were often illogical emotions, and Vincent frowned, feeling the sudden urge to get away. Cid's arms remained locked tight around hi, however, and there was nowhere to run. The pilot refused to let go until he got an answer, not an evasive response either.

 

Vincent turned his head and lowered his gaze, staring resolutely at the floor. He sighed in resignation.

 

“Trust…” he began slowly, his brow furrowing. “I trust you, Cid. Perhaps even more than is safe for me, but…” He paused for a moment. “You ask for too much.”

 

It was an irrational fear, and while he didn't believe for one second that Cid would ever intentionally hurt him, he couldn't get the flashes out of his head. He didn't want to let loose of that final bit of control. With Hojo, that had been his biggest pain, the complete feeling of helplessness, especially for a man who was once Commander of the Turks. He felt if he loosened his grip in the slightest that he would lose what bit of sanity he had left. He didn't know if he could place that in anyone else's hands, even if he knew he could trust them.

 

Of course, he wasn't going to explain this to Cid either. He didn't want anyone to know of his own ridiculous qualms and apprehensions. It was somewhat foolish, but that didn't make it any less real. Running away from the past simply because he feared too much to face it was supposed to be a problem for weaker men, not Vincent Valentine.

 

And yet, in some small way, a spark inside of him was daring to hope. It wanted that freedom, and it wanted him to stop being such a coward. He suspected the part of him that still remained the Turk from thirty years ago was the one that was so loudly telling him to suck it up and be a man again.

 

Fingers gently grasped his head and turned Vincent to face his lover once more. He claimed the ex-Turk's lips in a passionate kiss, trying to input all his desire and feelings. It was slow and gentle, encouraging but not the least bit domineering.

 

It was a comforting kiss.

 

“Lemme show you how it's s'posed to be,” Cid whispered softly against his lips, trapping a crimson-eyed gaze with his own. “I don't want to lose this chance.”

 

The unspoken words hung heavy on the air, that in six days, they might not get another.

 

Vincent sighed and closed his eyes, trying to fight down the apprehension that was building up within him. He leaned his head forward and buried his face in the pilot's neck, breathing in the smoky scent that he had come to recognize as belonging exclusively to Cid.

 

He sucked in a ragged breath, fighting against the unconscious desire rising up in him to run, the unreasonable terror. He wanted to be free of his past, true enough. He wanted to be the man he used to be or even just someone new and different, and really, he knew that he trusted Cid enough to do it.

 

It was too much to ask, and yet, with the possibility that there was only six days left in his life, it really wasn't too much to give. For the man that caused all of his barriers to burst one by one, until he was left blinking in the blinding light, Vincent believed that there might even be a way.

 

“I will trust you,” he conceded, hating how his voice came out barely louder than a whisper. He felt rather than saw the grin that spread across Cid's lips.

 

“I trust you,” Cid returned, and although it didn't seem to be the proper response, there was something in the way that he said it that brought a note of calm into Vincent's soul.

 

Crimson eyes rose, and it was only inevitable that their lips found each other. It was slow and exploratory, like a first kiss. And in a way it was; it was the first time that Vincent had allowed the blond to take the lead. The thought was slightly alarming, but he was comforted by the fact that this was Cid and not some deranged madman with the need to make him scream.

 

Their clothes began to fall to the floor in haphazard piles as Vincent was slowly edged back towards the bed, hands roaming without ceasing over his skin. Palms grazed over the sides of his body, and Vincent shivered at the gentle touch, already feeling a lazy pulse circulating through his blood.

 

The back of his knees hit the bed, and he lowered himself down, Cid's stockier body blanketing his as their legs tangled. The pilot kissed him, inwardly frowning at the still visible tenseness to his lover's body. He was already getting himself worked up.

 

“You gotta relax, baby,” he murmured, reaching out and sliding a hand over the pale, scarred chest.

 

He traced the outline of one jagged scar before settling on a dusky nipple. Vincent's back arched as the calloused digit encircled his nipple, rubbing a thumb over the peaked flesh.

 

The other man moaned softly, and ever so slightly, he began to relax.

 

Cid's lips moved downwards, brushing over the long line of a pale throat before latching onto a nipple. A breathy moan escaped from Vincent's throat, sounding almost like a purr. The gunman's hands settled on Cid's hips as he bucked upwards, grinding their rapidly hardening groins together. This, he could handle.

 

“Unngh.”

 

A groan escaped Vincent's mouth as teeth tugged gently on his nipple, scruff scraping against Vincent's chest, and one of Cid's hands snaked between their bodies to wrap fingers around his lover's erection as he stroked.

 

The gunman's breathing began to quicken as his heart raced, his mind blanking out in a sensual haze. Through the pleasure, he could scarcely remember why he had been so apprehensive in the first place.

 

“Do me a favor,” Cid mumbled against his flesh. “Reach up and get that lube from beneath the pillow.”

 

Vincent's brow furrowed as his mind fought its way to some semblance of coherency, needing a second to interpret the pilot's words. His hand reached up above him, digging beneath the pillow as requested, although he was slightly confused. They didn't normally keep the lube under the pillow.

 

His fingers wrapped around a small bottle, one that felt more like glass than plastic, and he emerged victoriously with the vial. He pulled his arm down, running his gaze over the bottle that he was certain had to be new. His eyes widened in surprise before flickering down to the pilot, who was grinning from ear to ear in smug satisfaction. It was his favorite scent: Pina Coloda. The Captain liked the smell of cookies, and Vincent happened to have a fondness for coconut.

 

“How did you…?” The question trailed off as a thumb rubbed over the tip of his arousal, and he shivered.

 

Fingers stroked down, palming the gunman's scrotum lightly as Cid chuckled. “I remembered,” he answered succinctly, dipping his head down to lick at the other pebbled nipple. “Ya told me in Mideel.”

 

“I see,” he murmured, but he really wasn't paying attention to the conversation anymore. He blindly handed over the lube to his lover, forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be apprehensive as more pleasurable sensations rocked his body.

 

Cid's lips returned to his, and Vincent slipped his tongue inside Cid's mouth, stroking the muscled flesh diligently. He wrapped his arms around the pilot's neck, forcing their bodies flush together so that their needy arousals ground together. The sensation was heightened by the slickness of their precum, already dribbling continuously from fully aroused cocks.

 

The pilot roamed an empty hand down over the planes of Vincent's body, caressing each of his sensitive spots and enjoying the sounds that the gunman was making. He didn't even need the ex-Turk to touch him to get aroused. The sounds were quite enough.

 

Ignoring the gunman's protests, Cid broke away from the kiss and began to nip his way down other man's body. He nibbled a little on the pale flesh of an inner thigh before he finally found himself where he wanted to be, kneeling between the gunman's legs with his straining erection in sight. He eyed Vincent hungrily before leaning down and giving him an experimental lick. The flavor of the other man's arousal burst over his tongue, slightly bitter but essentially still Vincent.

 

Vincent released a breathy sigh and buried his hands in the pilot's hair, urging him to continue. The initial nervousness seemed to fade as he found himself drowning in the pleasure Cid was giving him. A hand settled on the outside of his hip, a warm and comforting weight that did much to assuage his faint trembling.

 

The pilot drew the former Turk into his mouth completely, taking in as much of the length as he was able. He swirled his tongue around and sucked alternatively. His lover was writhing beneath him, awash in the sensation and finally relaxing. He could already feel that familiar heat building up in his groin, his pulse pounding madly in his ears.

 

Cid took that opportunity to uncap the oil and begin to coat his fingers, though never ceasing in his mouth torture. The room filled with the tropical scents of pineapple and coconut. He wanted Vincent to know only pleasure and was trying to distract him from the inevitable first pain. After all, it had been close to thirty years for the man.

 

He slipped his oil-slicked hand down between the gunman's legs and searched for the tiny, puckered entrance. When he found it, he traced circles around the edge, oiling up the outside and teasing his lover. Slowly, he began to press in one finger very gently.

 

Almost immediately, Vincent tensed up as he felt the invading digit. His entire body seized up, and he gasped.

 

Cid released the gunman's erection from his mouth and crawled up Vincent's body, capturing his lips. “Relax, baby, or it's going to hurt no matter what I do.”

 

“I am relaxed,” the ex-Turk responded in an irritated tone.

 

Cid shook his head at the obvious lie, something inside of him inordinately pleased that Vincent was at least trying. He tried to soothe the Vincent's fears by moving down and nibbling on his pale neck, especially around the ears, a particularly sensitive spot. His finger continued to rub circles around his lover's anus, gently loosening the outer rim.

 

Vincent moaned and clutched at Cid's body, barely able to think beyond the pleasure that the pilot was giving him. He slowly relaxed, lost to the sensations of the blond's lips on his neck.

 

The Captain took that opportunity to press the oil-slicked finger completely inside his apprehensive lover and begin to stretch him. When Vincent didn't protest or tense up further, Cid added another, using a scissoring motion to stretch him. He was going to do everything he was able to make sure that he didn't hurt his lover.

 

Vincent's right hand trailed down the blond's back, heading dangerously south to slip between the pilot's two cheeks and running a finger around his tight ring.

 

Cid couldn't help but moan at the feeling, wanting to buck backwards at the teasing digit. Yet, he restrained himself, instead adding in a third finger, since Vincent was so inclined to start teasing the pilot in his own way. He felt deep inside the gunman's body, searching for the one spot that would make Vincent melt in his arms. The blond knew he had found it when the ex-Turk suddenly gripped his ass, all but purring.

 

Cid stopped sucking on his lover's neck, noting with satisfaction that he left a dark, purplish-red mark in his wake. He pulled back just enough to look at his gunman as he continued to pump the ex-Turk with his fingers, making sure to hit his prostate each time.

 

The gunman was truly a beautiful sight: eyes closed in passion, mouth parted slightly emitting small moans of pleasure, forehead just beginning to sweat. Dark hair was spread across the pillow, and an aroused flush was traveling across his fair cheeks.

 

Cid found he would have been able to stare all night if he was so inclined. However, there was more that he had in store for the ex-Turk, and so he pulled away reluctantly.

 

Sitting back on his lower legs and removing his fingers, Cid dug around in the covers until he found the earlier discarded bottle of oil and poured a liberal amount on his fingers. He coated his straining erection with the sweet smelling lubricant before capping the bottle and tossing it away.

 

He leaned forward and balanced his weight on his left arm as it settled heavily into the bed next to the gunman's head. He used his right to guide himself slowly to Vincent's entrance. The head of his cock nudged the stretched ring but didn't pierce.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked gently.

 

Vincent's eyes popped open, not having expected the question. Cid had effectively put all the control, all the power into his hands, and there was something comforting in that fact. He could say no. He could push the pilot away if he wanted, not that he did. The point was, he had the option, and that instantly sent a wash of calm throughout his entire body.

 

His hands curled around Cid's biceps as his eyes shuttered closed once more. “Yes,” he answered quietly, and the one word answer was strangely freeing.

 

Cid nodded, leaning down to brush his lips over the tip of Vincent's ears as he gently began to press inside, inch by agonizing inch. He clenched his teeth as his arousal was encased in tight heat, the other man's muscles rhythmically clasping around the unwelcome intruder. Beneath him, Vincent hissed at the girth, fingers digging into Cid's arm but didn't protest, didn't ask him to stop.

 

He wanted to stop being a coward.

 

But that didn't stop the memories from coming, from flashing through his mind at a rapid pace. His own cries. The smell of his own blood on the air. Blinding pain, the feeling of being torn in two. Something blunt cracking down over his spine and something else pricking into his skin. A taunting laughter and mocking cackle. Liquid streaming down his thighs, acrid and wet.

 

It wasn't the same; he knew this on some rational level, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding in his chest. Unconsciously, Vincent seized up, clutching at Cid's arms tightly, cutting into one with his claw. With a slight gasp of pain from the blond, he felt a fraction better as it sent a treble of control back to his anguished mind. He sucked in a deep breath and held it, as if that would stop the sudden onslaught of welcome memories.

 

Then, a hand settled on his face, a thumb rubbing away a lone tear that he hadn't even realized he had shed.

 

“Open your eyes,” Cid commanded, though his voice was kind.

 

Crimson eyes fluttered open, locking directly onto familiar sky blue. All at once, the images vanished, as if they had never been there at all.

 

“I'm going to replace those nightmares with sumthin' better,” the blond intoned, his eyes never leaving the pale face of his lover. “Don't let that bastard ruin your life forever.”

 

Vincent nodded, unable to find any words as his hands continued to clench tightly, his claw drawing blood as it dug into Cid's flesh. The pilot didn't seem to mind too terribly as he bent down and claimed Vincent's lips. His hips shifted forward, and he pressed further, seating himself inside his lover until there was nowhere further to go.

 

Cid moaned deeply as he felt himself buried completely inside Vincent and ensheathed within the warm, wet heat. He stilled for a moment, allowing the gunman to get used to the feeling. He could feel Vincent clenching and unclenching around him, and his own blood thudded desperately in his veins. The blinding roar of orgasm hovered on the edge of his control, and he sought desperately to hold onto it.

 

Unconsciously, Vincent wrapped his legs around Cid's waist and ground himself down on the pilot's hardness. There was something satisfying in being filled in such a way that made the former Turk forget everything sick and twisted that had ever happened to him. All that mattered was this feeling.

 

The scent of arousal hung heavy in the air, and there was the music of breathy moans and sweat slicked skin rubbing together. The taste of smoke and spice filled the gunman, along with the feeling of being owned so completely.

 

Cid pulled out almost to the tip before pressing himself back inside. He began a slow and steady rhythm, able to feel the man shuddering beneath him. He shifted his weight just a little, changing the angle.

 

Amazingly, Vincent melted in his arms, voraciously attacking his lips and face.

 

The pilot moved all his weight to his elbow, again changing the angle but pressing himself more firmly against the gunman's body. He trapped Vincent's neglected hardness between their two sweat-soaked frames.

 

“Gods,” moaned Vincent. “Don't you dare stop.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Cid murmured, rolling his hips and sliding his cock against Vincent's prostate with a well-aimed thrust.

 

The gunman arched into the blond's touch, bucking up to meet the pilot thrust for thrust. He could feel his erection being caressed by the friction between their bodies, and he could already sense the molten sweetness pooling in his belly and threatening to explode. He slid his flesh hand down the blond's back and grabbed his ass, squeezing it tightly.

 

“Uhn… Cid…” His breath came in sharp pants, and he could tell that he was close.

 

“Damn, Vince… you're so tight,” groaned Cid in return, unable to resist the temptation of looking down at his lover.

 

At the sight of the normally composed man looking so needy and aroused, he lost all sense of keeping a steady rhythm. He frenetically pumped his hips, delighting in the purring whimpers issuing from Vincent's throat as the dark-haired man chewed on his bottom lip. He angled his hips once more and shoved himself deeply inside his lover, sliding along Vincent's prostate. He built the two of them to a crescendo and fury unlike anything they had ever felt before.

 

“Uhhh… C--CID!!!” Vincent cried loudly, his entire body arching as he literally exploded between their bodies, his seed coating their stomachs.

 

Hearing his name on Vincent's lips in a moment of passion combined with the indescribable feeling of the gunman's spasming around him, Cid couldn't help himself. He climaxed with a low groan, Vincent's name on his lips as he spilled his seed deep inside the other man.

 

His arms wobbled, and Cid collapsed on top of Vincent, breathing heavily. His whole body felt drained and sated and sticky. It was a good feeling.

 

It took great effort, but he slowly pulled out his lover and rolled over on his side so that he was no longer crushing him. He could feel Vincent still shaking and pulled his lover into his arms. Cid relaxed against the bed, instantly feeling like he could sleep for a whole day.

 

This had only confirmed what he had already suspected. He was totally and completely in love with Vincent. He couldn't say the exact point when it had happened or even why; nevertheless, he understood now. It felt like the perfect moment to confess, and he opened his mouth to do just that.

 

Yet, Vincent's somewhat weary voice spoke first.

 

“Thanks, Cid,” Vincent murmured. He knew that there were better, more appropriate things he could have said, like perhaps even the truth of the feelings in his heart. Yet, all that managed to come out was a note of thanks.

 

Cid's arms briefly squeezed him as he nuzzled into the gunman's hair, breathing in the exotic scent. “My pleasure,” he purred, and Vincent shook his head, amused at the smug tone in his pilot's voice.

 

“We should shower,” Vincent commented after a moment of silence.

 

The pilot made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat. “Later,” he mumbled. “Jes… lemme stay like this for now.”

 

He couldn't begrudge his lover that much, so the gunman relaxed against the bed, still floating in that post-orgasm bliss. It was quiet, and he dimly registered the sound of a clock ticking, as well as the steady thrum of the Highwind around them.

 

It was comforting.

 

Cid stirred. “Vince?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Are ya coming back?”

 

The gunman stiffened at the question, unsure how he was going to answer. The recent events had not made him change his mind in the slightest; in fact, they only served to further ensure that he was taking the correct path.

 

“…I can't answer that honestly.”

 

“Hmph. Just don't get yourself killed…” Cid's voice was getting softer now, speaking in his last waking moments, and the gunman smiled lightly at this. Cid was always one quick to fall asleep.

 

Vincent remained silent as he listened to the pilot's breathing as it began to even. His lover's arms slowly relaxed around his body, and a gentle rumbled emanated from Cid's mouth, causing the former Turk to smile briefly.

 

For a moment, Vincent just lay there, comfortable and seemingly secure. He breathed in the scent of their lovemaking combined with the lingering overtones of pina colada. He couldn't help the true grin that broke out on his face. He soaked up the warmth of Cid's embrace and entertained thoughts of just lying there forever, never leaving and confessing what was in his heart over and over.

 

But that was only until rationality kicked in, along with the realization that there were still things that he had to do first. Being with the pilot had been healing for him, but many questions were unanswered, most especially ones concerning his immortality and his body. He needed to know what he truly felt for Lucrecia, and he didn't know if he could even dare to hope for a future with Cid.

 

Sighing softly to himself, Vincent slowly began to inch his way out of the bed. He eased out from the touch of the blond's arms and carefully slid off the bed, barely disturbing it. Cid murmured to himself, and the dark-haired man froze, unable to help the thought that he was a coward for doing so. Yet, the pilot merely shifted and snuggled deeper into the covers.

 

The ex-Turk turned and pulled up a blanket, covering Cid's naked form so that he wouldn't get cold in the middle of the night, then set about finding his clothes. He dressed quickly and silently, his movements fluid. Vincent picked up his boots, intending on putting them back on when he left the room, but his hand paused on the doorknob. He couldn't leave without telling the pilot something.

 

Exhaling quietly, he turned and headed towards the table. He carefully rifled through the desk drawer, finding a pen and piece of paper; he sat down and began to write. It was quite a difficult task for him as he tried to find the words without being sappy or overly dramatic.

 

Cid,

 

Please forgive my cowardice in not saying this to you personally, but I fear if I had, I may never have left. There are things that I must know, truths that have eluded me.

 

I have gone to find my purpose to fight, to survive. There are some things I must take care of if I am going to join this battle, some pieces of my past that need to be closed. There are still unanswered questions I could not even begin to detail in this brief missive.

 

I am slowly coming to terms with what, or should I say who, I am and the events of my past. I have you to thank for that. Last night will be something that lingers in my mind as I am searching.

 

I hope three days finds me back on this airship and you as well.

 

Vincent V.

 

He stared at the letter, glaring at it critically. What he wrote would have to do, though he was not satisfied with the way it had turned out. He had failed to mention one part of his journey but didn't really want to worry Cid. He wasn't certain if it would come to that just yet. And even if Aeris' sacrifice had been…

 

Vincent shook his head, clearing away that thought. It would do no good to think of that right now.

 

Folding the note once, he wrote the pilot's name on the front and then set it on the nightstand. He found Cid's cigarettes and also placed the foul things next to his letter. He had a feeling the pilot would need them.

 

He dared one last glance towards his sleeping lover before he picked up his boots once more, and Vincent opened the door, peering out carefully before stepping into the hallway, locking the door behind him. He sighed heavily as he considered going back in and then shook his head forcefully.

 

He couldn't be what Cid wanted or even what he wanted for himself, not if he were still broken. Perhaps after his journey and after the battle, it would be something to look forward to.

 

He bent down and quickly put on his boots. Once they were sufficiently tightened, he headed for the cockpit. It was time to tell the pilot to take him to Nibelheim. As much as he didn't want to return to that foul place, he had the feeling that the answer to all his questions could be found there.

 

* * *