Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Somewhere to Call Home ❯ Somewhere to Call Home ( One-Shot )

Warning: Probably the WAFF’est part of the arc, but that’s to be expected! I tried to keep it light on the cotton candy, but I just couldn’t help myself.

This completely disregards Dirge of Cerberus as I have not played the game. So you might as well say it is AU.

Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from the characters in this fanfiction. Square-Enix owns Final Fantasy VII. I am only borrowing. I’ll put them back when I am done, a little worse for wear but nevertheless whole.

The Mirrors of Guilt Arc
Part 4 - Somewhere to Call Home

Something about it all seemed so much like deja vu except that their positions were reversed. Sitting at the bar in the Seventh Heaven, Vincent couldn’t help but notice Cloud’s absence. Though they had given him aid, in truth, Cloud was the one who had saved them all, laying his past to rest. It was for this purpose that again AVALANCHE reunited was celebrating.

Yet, the hero of the hour was missing.

Though his eye sight was keen and the blond’s hair easily distinguishable, Vincent checked the bar once more. The crowd was relatively small, limited to their closest acquaintances. Yuffie, too young to drink, was still somehow getting drunk. Probably a result of all the rounds Cid continued to buy everyone as he got sloshed on the other end of the bar. He occasionally had raised a glass to the gunman in salute as he grinned. Miracle of miracles, however, the pilot had cut down on his smoking. Rumors were that Cid’s boyfriend – yes, boyfriend – whoever the hell he was, had got him to cut down on the smoking. Vincent would like to shake that man’s hand if Cid ever got around to letting his secret slip.

Tifa was dancing with her fiancé, a quiet man with big, hopeful blue eyes. There was a strange echo of Cloud when Vincent looked at the boy, Jaresh he believed his name was. Vincent was initially surprised when Tifa had dragged the shy man around, introducing him. Then again, not everyone could wait forever for Cloud, and with the mako, there was a chance Cloud could live for a very long time… just like Vincent, who still had not begun to age. Besides, Tifa was a smart girl. He had the feeling she somehow already knew of their relationship.

Nanaki was curled up in a corner dozing, his tail flickering back and forth. Reeve was not present himself this time, claiming he couldn’t get away from work. He had sent Cait Sith, but after an hour, the toysaurus had powered down. It now lay on the fire wolf’s stomach. Reeve and Nanaki had been keeping in touch, the former ShinRa aiding Nanaki in finding his clan.

Barret was sitting at a table with Rude and Reno, of all people, knocking back shot after shot of some liquor. The Turks had shown up, had proved they didn’t want a fight, and had settled in to celebrate with the rest of them. Their companions, Tseng and Elena, had remained with the President. Vincent wasn’t quite sure where Marlene and Denzel were… probably with the Widow Gainsborough.
He saw no sign of the blond.

Drowning the last of his drink, Vincent stood up from his stool and headed for the door. He had a pretty good idea where Cloud had gone. He had gotten about halfway through the Seventh Heaven when a sudden thought had struck him. He paused and turned around, making his way back to the bar where Tifa’s hired bartended was still working.

“A whiskey sour and scotch twist,” he ordered, knowing Cloud’s tastes very well.

As he waited for the bartender to fill the order, his mind wandered to his and Cloud’s relationship. He could admit to himself that he missed the blond and his touch; that much he had realized from the stolen moment in the forest. Although Vincent enjoyed his solitude, he found a sense of loneliness had settled in him without the swordsman around. He had never realized how much the younger man’s presence meant to him until their separation.

Two glasses thudded to the bar in front of him and Vincent accepted the drinks with a curt nod before heading to the door once more. He caught Tifa’s gaze from the corner of his eye, but she only nodded imperceptibly, as if she knew where he was going and why, before turning back to lay her head on Jaresh’s shoulder. In a way, it was as if she were granting her blessing, something he knew Cloud would want to know. Of the many things that haunted the blond, hurting Tifa was one of them. It was one of the reasons they had never gotten too close.

The fresh night air swept over him as he pushed open the door and stepped into the darkened street outside the Seventh Heaven. Faint light streamed in from the windows, and down the street on either side were lamp posts. However, directly in front of the bar it was distinctly dimmer. He easily caught sight of Cloud, standing with arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at the sky, contemplating the mysteries of the universe, no doubt. A slight smile broke out on Vincent’s lips.

When the door slid shut behind him with a small click, Vincent strode forward until he stood just beside the silent blond. The right words came to him in that moment, and he knew exactly what to say.

“Can sins be forgiven?” he questioned, using the very words with which they had parted only hours earlier… though it seemed like so long ago considering all that had occurred.

From the corner of his vision, Vincent saw Cloud smile faintly before turning his mako eyes on him. “Only if you try,” he replied.

The ex-Turk nodded in acceptance and held out the drink he had brought for him. Cloud raised a brow but took the glass, sipping lightly and grinning when he realized that it was his favorite.

“You’re thinking,” Vincent commented, changing the line of conversation.
“Yes,” Cloud responded easily, turning his gaze back to the sky. “I’ve never really paid much attention to the stars before.” He paused, gesturing upwards the bright pinpoints of light, twinkling gently up above. “They really are beautiful.”

“I’ve noticed.” Vincent turned his eyes heavenward, tracing his gaze over the collection of stars turned into constellations, only recognizing a few. And that was only because she had pointed them out to him. One night, when he was off patrol duty and they had gotten their research done early, they had sat outside the ShinRa mansion. She had traced a few, telling him their origins and stories. Lucrecia had been so beautiful that night.

“I’m free now,” Cloud said after a moment, dragging Vincent from his thoughts of the past. “Perhaps not fully vindicated, but I’m no longer wrapped up in the past. I can just be now… free to live, free to hate… to love.” He turned back towards Vincent, eyes shining brightly like the stars, mostly due to the mako. “Where are we?” he asked quietly. “Where do we stand?”

Such simple queries… yet, nothing was ever without complications when it concerned the both of them. Cloud may have found his freedom, but Vincent was still hedging on his forgiveness, still living in the past with innocent brown eyes. The blond had secured what Vincent had made them separate for, but the gunman was without.

“Where we have always stood, Cloud.” On opposite sides of the same mirror, nearly distorted reflections of each other. Only now, Cloud’s was beginning to clear, and his remained foggy and indistinct.

The blond frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Dammit, Vincent,” he cursed, though the words weren’t with anger but annoyance. “Can’t you ever just say what you mean?”

The ex-Turk’s eyes lowered for a moment, and he amended his earlier words. It was always so much easier to speak the truth to Cloud than anyone else, knowing that above all else, he would understand.

“I miss you, Cloud.”

Blond spikes wavered back and forth as he shook his head. “Then don’t miss me,” the other man implored as a strange expression crossed over his face. One gloved hand darted forward and grabbed Vincent, pulling him close. Two sets of glass tumblers dropped to the ground, shattering in unison as Cloud melded their lips together, a passionate exchange of heat and lust. The gunman was unable to help his metal hand when it gripped tightly onto Cloud’s right arm, the one now free of the Geostigma curse, to keep the ex-SOLIDER close.

Kami, he didn’t want to ever let go.

“Come home with me.” The words spilled from Cloud’s lips quietly, a gentle promise that didn’t pass beyond their ears.

Yet, he knew that there were still some things left for him to do… before he could even think of home.

“But--“

Cloud cut him off before he could finish, silencing him with another long and forceful kiss, their tongues melding together hotly as the blond pulled their bodies together. He ran his free hand down Vincent’s back, pushing them even closer as he pressed their lips, teeth, and tongues together. He tasted the gunman with vigor until Vincent was nearly breathless.

“I know,” the blond inserted smoothly, pulling back to look deeply into scarlet eyes. And they were so unnatural, yet beautiful. He honestly felt that Vincent wouldn’t be the same person without them… like scars of an ordeal, and they only proved his inner strength, almost as if they were badges of honor.

“You haven’t tested it yet,” he continued. “But I’ve missed you… missed this.” The hand grasping Vincent’s cloak released the fabric as he let his fingers trail over the side of the gunman’s face, just a light caress. “Just for the night?”

Vincent hedged on his answer, his gaze shifting away from Cloud’s imploring eyes because he knew if he kept it, he would not be able to say no. Not when his heart was crying out for this chance, just as his body was craving it. The peace that the swordsman had to offer before he set out to find his own liberation might just be worth the difficulty he would have in leaving. Yet, it was so tempting… to finally come home.

Cloud seemed to sense his hesitancy and quickly gripped his chin, forcing Vincent to look at him in the eyes. “I want you to know what will be waiting… what you still have to live for.” His words nearly echoed that very first time when the blond had stopped Vincent from disappearing out of everyone’s lives.

The gunman leaned in, kissing him once more. “Very well.”

Nothing more needed to be said as Cloud pulled away from Vincent, only to lead him back towards the Seventh Heaven and around to the side where there was a back entrance. He did not want to have to walk though the bar where everyone would ask questions, nor did he think he had time to lead the gunman all the way back to their shared home. His room above the bar would have to do.

----

The room was small, adequate, but utterly devoid of all personal possessions. It was obvious that Cloud did not spend much time in it other than to sleep occasionally. The bed was made, the room itself so tidy it appeared that no one had resided there in months. And maybe they hadn’t. Vincent couldn’t really say when the last time his companion had visited Tifa and her home.

A single lamp on the nightstand lit the entire room, bathing it in a soft, almost romantic glow. Somehow, it was always the little details that seemed important to him. The bed was made with a thick and warm comforter, a myriad of blue and black design splashing on the surprisingly soft fabric. The window was big and wide but invariably covered with a sheer set of curtains, as if to block any prying eyes. Or perhaps Cloud had been trying to hide.

Nevertheless, he was no longer trying to conceal himself, not with his lips pressed firmly to Vincent’s, gently slipping his tongue within and tasting of the older man. He wasn’t doing so while he was slowly removing their garments, dropping them into forgotten piles on the floor as they both made their way to his rather small bed. He was definitely not when a pale hand buried in blond spikes, a bronze claw carefully tugging at dark pants.

Nor was Vincent able to keep himself hidden, keep his emotions locked within, not with the brutally honest truth of Cloud's freedom knocking on the door to his blackened soul. He heard his clothing dropped to the floor around him, felt the heat of the blond’s skin pressed to his and the warm breath ghosting across his flesh. Cloud's palm ghosted over his skin, feeling the shift of the muscle beneath and rubbing their needy bodies together, so close that Vincent could feel his pulse.

He closed his eyes against the truth that frightened him but gave his control up to the younger man who knew just how to bring him proof. There was something inherently honest in what Cloud was trying to do, something that was the same for both of them, and yet, somehow altered. Like mirrors of cracked guilt, reflecting nearly the same passion and also curved to show the different trials endured

Vincent moaned softly as teeth grazed along his bottom lip, kneading and teasing while the last of the barriers between them dropped to the floor, leaving their flesh pressed together completely. Cloud's hand tangled in dark locks, guiding his head as he kissed the ex-Turk, threading his tongue throughout the Vincent’s mouth. The other trailed down the planes of the gunman’s flesh, lightly caressing the scarred skin and rubbing over the flattened disc of a rosy nipple.

The ex-Turk gripped Cloud's hip with his claw, though gently so he wouldn’t draw blood as he wrapped his fingers around the blond's arousal, stroking him steadily. He rubbed a thumb over the pearly drop on the tip, enjoying the slight shudder that echoed through Cloud's body when he did so. Slowly but surely, the blond began to guide them towards the bed, nearly tripping over their discarded clothing. In a near echo to the first time the blond had attempted to save him, Vincent's knees hit the back of the bed, and he tumbled backwards, taking the other man with him.

The gunman shifted as they fell, their bodies twisting and Vincent working to be sure he didn’t harm his lover with his sharpened claw. They shifted about on the bed, limbs rubbing and sliding, entangling. As a result, in a strange turn of events, the gunman couldn’t be positive how it happened, they ended up in a reverse position. Vincent found himself poised between Cloud’s legs, leaning over the lean chest with clawed hand balanced in the covers near blond spikes and lips possessively swiping over the swordsman’s mouth. His hair fell in a dark curtain around him.

Cloud moaned, reaching up to tangle a hand in the ebony strands, seemingly unconcerned with the deviance from their usual course. He arched up towards the body above him, swiftly hardening shaft sliding along the scarred abdomen. Vincent leaned into the brushing touch, lips moving ceaselessly against the soft flesh of Cloud’s mouth. Their tongues swept together, a lazy dance of seduction and emotion. The ex-Turk’s own skin was swiftly warming with the oncoming lust and desire, sparkles of pleasure shooting through his body and sending messages straight to his groin.

He suddenly knew that he wanted to take Cloud, to be the one providing the pleasure and the reason… if anything to prove that he would return. Decision firmly in his mind, Vincent gently broke away from the kiss, nuzzling the blond slightly with his nose to encourage him to tilt his head backwards as he trailed lightly grazing teeth across his chin and down the length of his jawbone. The blond complied, again shifting his legs and hips to rub against the body above him.

As Vincent nipped and licked at the exposed neck, savoring the taste of the ex-SOLDIER’s flesh, he lazily pressed their lower bodies together, grinding hardened shafts in an erotic dance of flesh. A calloused sword hand clutched at the shoulder of his altered arm even as Cloud rubbed his fingers against Vincent’s scalp, a wordless plea for him to continue his movements. The gunman rubbed his free hand along the side of the swordsman’s chest, fingers gliding over the shift of muscle beneath the warm skin and caressing sensitive flesh.

A sound, almost like a purr rumbled in the back of the blond’s throat as he released Vincent’s hair and grabbed the questing hand, turning his gaze onto the older man as he pulled three fingers into his mouth. He rolled the appendages around on his tongue, grazing the flesh lightly with his teeth and coating them completely with saliva. Vincent shuddered at the erotic gesture, a tingle racing down his spine as he teethed the edge of a collarbone, biting down enough to leave a slight mark but not enough to pain the other man.

Cloud thrust up as Vincent ground down into him, slurping at the gunman’s fingers before pulling them from his own mouth, guiding the spit-slicked appendages down towards his entrance, effectively showing the older man exactly what he wanted. His desire was clear on his face, in his every movement. The dark-haired man readily complied as his captive hand was released, sliding his tongue over the planes of the blond’s chest as he encircled the wet muscle around a nipple, teething the pert flesh. His fingers trailed over the erect flesh, teasing lightly the dripping and sensitive head before continuing in their quest downwards, dipping just below the swollen sacs. Slicked appendages traced over a grasping entrance, loosening the puckered muscle before slowly sliding just one finger in.

The younger man moaned, shifting his hips downwards on the welcome intruder and in the same moment trying to buck upwards, seeking stimulation for his aching shaft. Vincent breathed deep of the ex-SOLDIER’s unique scent as he continued to lave attention to first one and then the other nipple, distracting the usually seme Cloud from the entrance of the second finger. But it seemed the blond didn’t mind in the slightest, a sound a bit like a growl emanating from his throat, encouraging the gunman to move faster. The temperature in the room seemed to have increased by large increments, both men now sweaty as they gasped and moved together, bodies sliding slickly along the other and straining to reach higher plateaus of desire.

“M… more,” gasped out the blond, one hand clinging tightly to Vincent’s shoulder to physically urge him onwards, while the other wrapped in the sheets, mussing up the already unmade and unruly white sheets. The gunman ran his tongue across the flat abdomen of the younger man, his hair tickling Cloud’s flesh as he eased in the third finger, unwilling to hurt his lover in any way. He merely moaned, urging him to continue.

“In due time,” Vincent murmured quietly. His lover shook his head, not agreeing with his statement as he released his hold on the covers and snaked his hand between their bodies, straining slightly to grasp the warm and steel flesh of Vincent’s erection. He stroked him slowly, rubbing a thumb over the precum dripping tip and sliding the spreading the slick fluid around as a crude form of lubrication. The gunman moaned as his eyelids fluttered, Cloud’s firm grip enough to make his clawed arm shake.

Lust rose within him in steadying waves. Vincent brushed his fingers over that spot deep inside Cloud, causing the blond to arch his back in pleasure before he removed his fingers, gingerly setting up position to enter the younger man. Legs slipped around his waist as Vincent leaned down to kiss him, tongue sliding along the seam of the blond’s lips before delving between the pert flesh, swiping his tongue inside the warm cavern. Cloud made a sound that was half growl, half purr in the back of his throat as Vincent began to ease inside of him, inch by inch.

The gunman groaned as he sank into the warm and grasping entrance of the blond, the way eased by the slickness of his own precum, his body shuddering lightly. Cloud moaned and grasped at the covers, eyelids fluttering over eyes still shining a brilliant, mako blue. The blond’s hips welcomed the intrusion, his body taking in Vincent’s flesh with near impatience. Cloud tightened his grip on the other man’s waist with his legs and made an encouraging noise in the back of his throat, urging the dark-haired man to continue their coupling.

The gunman readily complied, stroking the soft skin at the blond’s hip with his flesh hand as he slowly pumped his hips, sliding in and out of the accommodating entrance. He hissed slightly with the pleasure that assailed him even as Cloud’s body moved sinuously with him, accepting every move seemingly with ease.

For a moment, even as he leaned down to kiss those gasping lips, nibbling gently on the lower slightly pouting one, Vincent came to a startling revelation. There was something uniquely different in their lovemaking this time. Before, it had always been the both of them holding back parts of themselves, unwilling to make that final connection. They were too scared, too ashamed… but now, it was only him who was being so selfish. There was a certain honesty in Cloud’s movements, nothing tangible or explainable, but nevertheless, Vincent could feel it.

He felt low then, almost more so than when he had failed Lucrecia. Cloud was giving so much, giving what he had feared to grant before. Yet, Vincent offered nothing in return. He still held that critical part of himself back. The gunman was not worthy of such a gift, and he felt even more the monster for continuing to accept it, for not pulling away and waiting until he could become his own again.

With that thought came the realization that it wasn’t enough. This supposed love making was without the closeness that such a gift deserved. A near growl of determination emitted from Vincent’s throat as he sat upwards, pulling Cloud with him in one easy movement so that the blond was perched on top of him. He was still inside the ex-SOLDIER, but now, they sat face to face, skin to skin. Cloud wrapped his arms around Vincent’s neck, drawing him close as he moved his hips, slowly sliding Vincent’s slick shaft in and out of him. The hardness rubbed along his prostate with every motion. His own dribbling and sorely neglected shaft scraped along the lean planes of the gunman’s stomach, giving him some desperately needed stimulation.

Vincent placed his claw on the blond’s hip as he kissed him gently, choosing to run the flesh hand down Cloud’s bare chest, ghosting softly over a peaked nipple. As the blond shuddered at the touch, moaning lowly, the gunman traced his hand downwards until he was encircling the ex-SOLDIER’s leaking erection. He pumped Cloud, rubbing a thumb over the pearly drop of precum and shifting his hips to thrust deeply into the panting blond. Vincent’s teeth nibbled along the thin flesh of the younger man’s jaw, though he still felt as if he were cheating Cloud out of something.

And perhaps he was, but he also hoped he was silently making up for it, saying without words the promise that he would return someday, as if time mattered to those inflicted with the mako curse. He increased his stroking on Cloud’s shaft, even as he felt the fire within him broiling brighter, veins flooding with desire and pleasure. A throaty groan emanated from his throat as he drove up into the blond with greater passion. The swordsman clutched tighter onto him. More moans escaped from the younger man’s mouth, Cloud nearly biting his own lip as he pulled the flesh between his teeth. It was such an endearing gesture that Vincent could never forget.

The gunman gasped against Cloud’s throat even as their bodies were pressed more firmly together, his hand trapped between them as he worked tirelessly to bring the other man to the pinnacle of pleasure. Still, Cloud displayed the very act of giving up, of giving in. His face displayed every emotion, playing easily across his features and no longer hidden. His eyelids fluttered, mako orbs flaring with passion as he gritted his teeth and clenched his hands across Vincent’s flesh. He threw his head back, surrendering to what little Vincent had to give even as he offered more in return.
Fire flooded through the gunman’s veins, like a blaze of passion and emotion, and he picked up the pace, nearly shoving Cloud up into the air with each thrust. The blond didn’t seem to mind a bit, however, as he tilted his head forward, latching his lips and teeth on the pale flesh of Vincent’s collarbone, returning the love bite in full force. Both of them were moaning now, groaning sounds of incoherency with growls that issued from their bellies and spilling from their mouths.

Cloud was the first to come, having been on the receiving end of most of the attention. Vincent drove up into him, hardened shaft sliding perfectly along his prostrate, and with a firm grip on his own aching hardness. With a gasp, biting down slightly into the flesh of the older man’s shoulder and actually drawing blood, Cloud came, spilling himself all over the gunman’s hand and both of their stomachs.

Vincent soon followed, Cloud clinging onto him, and the strangely erotic biting enough to tip him over the edge. He managed one or two more forceful thrusts before the clenching of his lover’s inner walls pulled him into orgasm, a shuddering groan escaping from his mouth as he spilled inside of Cloud.

Both their hearts beat at alarming paces as they panted and clung to one another, coming down from their post-orgasm high. Cloud collapsed against Vincent, leaning his forehead on the gunman’s shoulder with the faint scent of the man’s blood tickling his nose. Mako eyes widened in surprise as he gently touched the wound, looking up at the ex-Turk with wordless apology.

“I didn’t mean to draw blood,” he said softly as a pair of arms, lean but still muscular enough to wield even the largest guns with ease, wrapped around him.

“It’s fine,” Vincent assured quietly. Then, in a voice that was a bit bitterer, he added, “It will heal soon enough as it is.” His legs were cramping, and there was a fatigue in his body. Still, he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to say so aloud, but he was almost afraid because he knew that the moment he let go of Cloud, he would be leaving on his journey to face his past and his mistakes.

And that frightened him.

He didn’t know if he was ready. Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to continue clinging with Cloud’s semen slowly drying on them and the blond’s legs probably going numb as well… but Vincent was already a guilt-ridden once-dead man with monsters inside of him… why not add egoism to his shortcomings

There was a moment of silence, not tense or uncomfortable… just a quiet. Cloud was the first to move, detangling his limbs from Vincent and collapsing tiredly onto the bed behind him, already snuggling down into the warm and mussed covers. He gave no mind to the mess, the fatigue from the day settling in. He had fought a battle, gone to a party, and just had emotionally-draining sex with Vincent. There was only so much the body of an ex-SOLDIER could take.

The gunman paused for a second, taking in the sight of the blond almost looking innocent as he curled about and rearranged the covers to suit his comfort. He seemed younger then, rather than the slowly aging man worn down by guilt and unhappiness, Cloud finally appeared to be the twenty-three-year-old he truly was. The worry lines once etched into his forehead had faded, and it was almost as if he had found his true peace. Vincent knew, of course, that Cloud wasn’t perfectly fine, that he hadn’t stumbled upon a miracle cure… but he was already on his way there, close enough that it didn’t matter anymore.

Vincent considered getting up and leaving then, letting Cloud go to sleep alone. But something in him told him not to, something said it would be alright if he indulged just this one last time. His journey would still be waiting come morning, so he slipped beneath the comforter next to Cloud and snuggled down into the bed, idly slapping a hand out to switch off the lamp next to the bedside.

“Don’t disappear into the shadows,” Cloud said softly. That he wanted Vincent to return went unsaid. It didn’t really need to be.

Vincent considered the words, even as his tired body tried to pull him into sleep. “I’ll be home soon enough,” he responded finally, finding nothing better to say. But the blond seemed satisfied.

And in the morning, when Cloud awoke… Vincent was gone.

---

The house was dark, not surprising since it was late. It seemed absentmindedness was part of his true personality, not just a remnant of Zack.

The dark-haired gunman walked slowly towards the home, a half-smile on his lips as he felt his heart warm at just the sight of the house. In three years… it had not changed. Not like Vincent had, anyways.

Gone was the crimson cloak, the symbol of his shame. He had rid himself of the all black attire as well, not wanting to remind himself of his past life. He was no longer a part of it, and while it was important, it was no longer necessary. That he had learned in his travels.

For three years, he was a ghost on the face of Gaia. Traveling the planet, lending his aid where it was needed, and generally trying to find his peace. In the end, he discovered the truth of his heart: where his home lay and putting Lucrecia and his sins to rest. He had cut his hair shorter so that it was better manageable and now pulled it back from his face. He didn’t feel the need to hide anymore. Although the claw remained, something he could not be rid of, he altogether felt a new man, a new creation. No longer Vincent Valentine the Turk and no longer Vincent Valentine the somber member of AVALANCHE, he was now just Vincent… no title, no mask.

As he approached the front door, digging into his pocket for the key, he couldn’t help the smile widening on his face. It felt so good, so right to be doing so. As if in his long journeys, he had finally found what he was searching for. It made him seem complete, whole, more calm than he had in his entire existence. Even the demons had retreated to the very darkest recesses of his brain, no longer taunting or tormenting him. He only heard the occasional annoyed grumble.

The door slid open with nary a creak, admitting him easily into the almost silent house. He could hear the faint ticking of the ancient grandfather clock in the den and the thrum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, but otherwise, it was quiet. It wasn’t completely dark either; this he noticed as he quietly shut the door behind him, shrugging off the dark jacket to hang on the coat stand. Small, light-sensitive lights were stuck in electrical sockets. At least he wouldn’t trip over anything. He toed his boots off at the door but kept his holster on; that he would remove upstairs.

That was the one thing from his past that he had kept. While divesting himself of the cloak and Turk outfit was one thing, removing his weapon in a world still rife with monsters was another. Vincent was no fool, and so the gun stayed. It had served him well, and he had had plenty of opportunities to use it during his travels.

Vincent headed up the stairs, directly beyond the front door. As he remembered, the seventh step creaked slightly under his weight. It was a short sound, which always reminded him to step to the right on the eighth, thereby avoiding that squeaky board. It was unique how the little things stuck with him, the little memories.

Like how Cloud always pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when he got close. Or that he was horrible at doing dishes, always missing the little stuff. That there was a box, a small one, almost like a child’s treasure chest that Cloud kept hidden in the bottom drawer of the dresser. He thought no one knew of it. It kept all his special memories, one of the first clippings of Sephiroth becoming General, the receipt for his ticket to Midgar, a small lock of brown hair, a dried flower… Or how much he treasured his golden chocobo, Argent, born and raised all by Cloud’s hand. And that he hated carrots… always had since he was a kid.

Simple things like that. He never forgot them. Perhaps he really was a romantic at heart, despite trying to say otherwise.

The second door on the left was their shared bedroom, the door not even closed, hanging open by a few inches, like Cloud knew that he was coming. Then again, there was a good chance that it had been that way for the past three years. Vincent couldn’t be sure. He did, however, know for certain that the blond had not moved on.

Despite his wanderings, he continued to keep in touch with Nanaki. Every so often he would either drop by Cosmo Canyon in the dead of night or in secret… or he would send the lion creature a letter. On the occasions when he actually visited, Nanaki would fill him in on what had been occurring with the old gang. He tried to be regular with it, as well, just in case something happened to him. Cloud wouldn’t wait forever for a dead man. Plus, Vincent trusted him to be discreet. He knew that Cloud would not search for him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if either Yuffie or Tifa tried to track him down.

Tifa was married. She had one son, Mikhal, and another child on the way, a daughter they believed this time. She and Jaresh had adopted Denzel, though the brunet still spent a lot of time with his “Uncle” Cloud. Yuffie had yet to settle down in Wutai but had stumbled upon a recently untapped materia lode. She was presently in the business of selling it to the highest bidder and, according to Nanaki, nearly giddy with glee.

Barret had married Aeris’ adopted mother, and the two of them were raising Marlene. Their main home was in Edge, near to Tifa and the Seventh Heaven, but Barret still returned to Corel now and then to help them rebuild. Not to mention he was succeeding in his oil business.

Reeve was working to help restore world order, or so he claimed. He appeared to be doing a pretty good job at it. Much of Edge was returned to its proper state by now, and it seemed Gaia was entering an era of prosperity and peace. Slowly but surely the planet was healing, little by little.

But what was probably the most shocking of all was finding out the identity of Cid’s mysterious lover. None other than Reeve Tuesti… of all people. Vincent wasn’t sure how that one had happened, and frankly, he didn’t dare ask. Nanaki hadn’t seemed to known either. As for the lion wolf, he had been searching for his clan and with good results. Vincent had met the lioness, a feisty female by the name of Laina. He had to admit they were well matched.

Vincent pushed open the door, stepping quietly into the dimly lit bedroom. He was well acquainted with the placement of everything and moved smoothly around the furniture, slowly shedding clothes as he did so. The holster for the Cerberus was hung on a peg near to the door. He glanced towards the bed, noting that Cloud was asleep, seemingly oblivious to his presence. The blond was lying on his side, facing the door, but on the far portion of the bed, as if leaving room for his lover.

The gunman was certain that was the case. He undressed quietly, down to his boxers, as he reminded himself of what Nanaki had told him. Cloud lived a relatively quiet life, seemingly content. He still battled monsters now and then, only the ones that hadn’t disappeared after the Lifestream began to clear. The Strife Delivery Service was still well in business, though Cloud didn’t feel the need to take quite so many orders as usual. He spent a lot of time with Denzel and helped out Tifa at the bar.

But he was no longer drowning in his guilt, and he smiled a lot more. That much Vincent was glad to hear… for both of their sakes.

Vincent pulled the tie from his hair, running his flesh hand through the locks that were just past his shoulder, and he pulled back the covers and slid into the bed, nearly melting into the comfortable mattress. For a moment, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of belonging. It flowed over him like a well worn blanket or a mother’s embrace and made him smile once more. The familiar scent of Cloud washed over him, as well as the innate warmth of the younger man’s body.

The moment he settled in, Cloud shifted in his position, and a warm arm settled over his side, pulling him backwards into a welcoming embrace. The blonde buried his face in the back of Vincent’s hair, breathing in deep of the scent.

“You’re late,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

The gunman merely sighed softly. “My apologies.”

“You cut your hair.”

“That I did. It was time for a change.”

Cloud chuckled quietly, breath ghosting warmly over the back of Vincent’s head. “You found it, then?”

Vincent considered this for a moment, trying to digest how to word the new and light feeling on his soul into something that mere language could express. But it was near impossible.

“Hai,” he admitted quietly. “Though, it seemed I had it all along.” And that was the truth.

Lucrecia’s fate was not his fault, his failure something that he could not have prevented. He had to forgive himself for his disgrace first before he could even seek it from anyone else. He had gone to visit her just once when the clarity of it all had hit him. He had been the only one accepting any blame, and for the work of a scientist with no humanity. It was foolish. And in the end, with all grievances solved, it served no purpose to wallow in retribution and atonement… not when he still had a future and someone looking for him to come home. He had torn his heart open in leaving, and by coming home, he had sown it back shut.

And yet, in that truth… another thought struck his mind. It was an injustice he had made Cloud to endure, and he now sought to rectify. Vincent half-turned, his head shifting so that he could meet the blond face to face, looking straight into shining mako eyes. The blond didn’t move, merely staring back the even and honest gaze with a bated breath. The ex-Turk reached over, careful not to cut with his sharpened claws and placed one finger beneath the blond’s chin, gently tilting his head in the proper direction.

He closed his eyes and pressed their lips together, inputting in that kiss all that he had held back from the last time they had met… all the emotion and the pieces of him that he had kept from the puzzle. He worked his lips against Cloud’s, sharing the same breath and sliding his tongue along the soft flesh, though there was nothing at all sexual about the shared passion. It was an apology, an acceptance, a forgiveness. It was giving in and giving up, standing down and standing ground and becoming whole once more. It was romantic, perhaps. Sappy, yes. But the truth, nonetheless. It was not tangible nor was it explainable, but the feeling was there like before, and this time it was shared. A great feeling of peace washed over him, a serenity unlike one he had ever felt before.

A moment passed, and they parted, Cloud with a slight smile on his face. But Vincent had no words, finding that none were needed. He locked eyes with the younger man for a moment before releasing his gentle press on Cloud’s chin, relieved to find he had not pierced the skin, turning back over. He nestled into that warm embrace.

It was completely silent then, the only sounds that of the relentlessly ticking clock and the blond’s even breathing, warm against the back of his neck. The weight on his side was a comfort, and the repose was most welcome. The gunman relaxed, easing his body near to sleep until Cloud’s soft voice drifted across the room.

“Vincent?”

“Yes?”

“Welcome home.” Vincent smiled softly, just a gentle turning of the corner of his lips.

It only took thirty-something years, but he had finally made it.

----

Romance at last, peace for the two. Yes, I know. A sappy ending… hell, the entire thing was sappy, but I felt it was much deserved.

Please review.