Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Tall Dark and Vampy? Then Dinner is Served ❯ Tall Dark and Vampy.... ( Chapter 1 )

Something Has to Give

 

Tseng sighed. He'd been given a thankless task. Well Rufus usually gave him the harder jobs but this one was nigh on impossible. On paper it sounded simple enough; convince Vincent Valentine to rejoin the Department of Administrative Research. Well the reasons were obvious. In his last term of service Vincent had been on the fast track to the top, in line for the job that he himself held, a crack shot, known for his discretion and his professionalism, and was a cool head in any situation. But then you had the fact that his last term of service had ended in his death. An event that stemmed from poor judgement in women, his high moral code and asking the wrong questions of ShinRa's top bio-scientist; he had pulled the trigger. Said scientist had then experimented on his corpse, reanimating and merging it with three demons before discarding him as a failure. The woman at the centre of this little debacle had then tampered with his genetics, fusing him with one of the planet's WEAPONs to save his life. After Lucrecia had abandoned him Hojo had then sealed him in stasis in a coffin for thirty years. To say that the former Turk had issues with ShinRa was a bit of an understatement.

 

But Rufus was determined to add Vincent's strength to the current compliment of Turks at his disposal. He wanted Vincent's experience to balance out the team, or so he said. The prospect of the man who was host to four demons at his beck and call could put the frighteners on any gang lord or dissident faction and make the resurrection of the ShinRa Empire so much easier. Yes, in the rebuild after meteor Rufus was rebuilding Midgar and the ShinRa Electric Company, but the process left gaps for the underworld to creep in and try to take territory. This was about power, Rufus' power, it was that simple. And so, knowing there was possibly only one man capable of even coming close to making Vincent considering this proposition, Rufus had entrusted the task to him. It also came with the clause that failure was not an option, and came under the heading of `I don't care how long it takes' and `by any means necessary'.

 

This currently had him standing outside the 7th Heaven bar, where Vincent was visiting Cloud Strife for one reason or another, waiting for him to come out so he could try again. He had lost count of how many times he'd attempted to have this discussion with Vincent. Every time they dance the same dance which ended in the gunman refusing him. As always he would report back to Rufus, who would sulk for a day or two, forget the matter for a few weeks, then as always send him back to try again. It was a seemingly never ending cycle which would only ever be broken when someone backed down. None of the three were to type to back down from anything. That was the problem.

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, actually finding himself wishing that he was back in his office reading one of Reno's mission reports. That at least could prove to be entertaining. But a figure in red and black was leaving the bar, and even in the meagre light of the street lamps in the alley it was obvious it was Vincent. It didn't take a moment to be stood barring Vincent's way. As Vincent saw him he groaned inwardly.

 

“Again Tseng?”

 

Dark eyes met ruby ones and Tseng nodded.

 

“ShinRa doesn't know a lost cause when he sees one.”

 

Tseng chuckled grimly. “He's very much like his father in that sense.”

 

Vincent sighed. Yes he remembered the elder and now former President well. No one who had worked in his regime could miss him.

 

“So what is it to be this time?” He asked, beginning the dance.

 

“A twenty percent increase in the previously offered retainer, you report solely to him, accommodation, expenses and a blind eye to anything you choose.” Tseng reeled off in a bored tone. “Oh, and a promise that you can forgo the usual medical scrutiny that every other employee must submit to.”

 

Vincent raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Rufus really had been thinking on this.

 

“Well it's an improvement on last time, and he's getting inventive. It will be interesting to see what he comes up with to try and top that.” He chuckled amused, moving to step past Tseng.

 

“He's not going to relent Vincent.” He stated firmly, stopping the other man in his tracks.

 

Vincent laughed. “What is going to do, threaten to kill me? I'd like to see him try.”

 

“Why do you resist this so much? As I see it he's pretty much willing to let you name your own terms.”

 

“I will not be ShinRa's lapdog again. I think dying for one ShinRa was enough.” He said coldly.

 

They had stepped outside the dance, or rather Tseng had decided to add new steps, to challenge Vincent rather than letting him walk away from the brief discussion. What happened now could no longer be expected and therefore the normally friendly tone these discussions usually held was dropped like a stone.

 

“But you didn't die for ShinRa did you? You died for love and morals. Things a Turk cannot afford, you taught us all a valuable lesson.”

 

Tseng knew he was provoking Vincent, but something had to change, something had to give. They had to break this cycle that they were in. Perhaps it was time to get under Vincent's skin, see what really made him tick. It may give him leverage for next time at least. Like the man before him he was tired of this game, and much like his boss, he did not like to be told no by anyone. Vincent had become his own private challenge, one he was determined to rise to. Vincent only just managed to keep down the small growl in his throat that threatened to slip from his lips.

 

“Watch it.” He warned.

 

“You know what I can't figure out, what it is that you do with your time. It strikes me that you probably sit brooding on the old days, remembering what life used to be like but not actually living. Or at least that is what you've been doing since Sephiroth and Meteor. Then that little incident with Kadaj's gang. I have never seen you look more alive than when you were retrieving Elena and I. Don't you miss living?”

 

“I think I have more than enough time to contemplate that thank you.” Vincent snapped, this time forcibly stepping past Tseng.

 

“You know what I think Vincent? I think you are afraid to live again, you are afraid of getting hurt.” He called after him.

 

With the highly tuned instinct for danger that he had as a Turk, Tseng was reacting to Vincent's sudden lunge at him before it registered in his conscious thought. He was already drawing his gun, but he was no match for the unnatural speed at which the other man could move. He found himself roughly shoved against the alley wall, Vincent having already disarmed him and was now holding him to the wall with his gauntleted hand and the muzzle of his own weapon underneath his chin.

 

“Don't insult me, if you wanted to drop me you'd need more than a gun and you know it.” He growled before lowering the weapon. “And you'd have to be faster than that, but the training shows. Your scores must have been good in basic training.”

 

Tseng was wondering where the hell this little line of conversation was going, but was not stupid enough to open his mouth when he had a gun at his head. Not that the man pinning him needed such a weapon to kill him. He had the strength to tear him apart with his bare hands if he chose. But Vincent just tossed the weapon and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, suddenly invading his personal space, getting very close.

 

“Listen to me Tseng, don't think that I helped you and Elena for any other reason than no-one should have to suffer like that, do not mistake it for loyalty to a fellow Turk because you'd be very wrong. Now I've had enough of Rufus and his little games. There is no way on Gaea that I will ever come back, so you can tell him to find someone else to do his dirty work. I'm through being screwed over like that. As entertaining as these little meetings have been, this will be the last of them do I make myself clear?”

 

Tseng was currently going through a few things in his head. Firstly he was pissed off, this was going badly wrong and he was currently pinned by someone he had no chance in a physical fight with, a situation of his own making. Secondly Vincent was way too close for comfort, crimson eyes burning into him with a fire that seemed to consume him, making the former Turk look more alive, more intense than he had ever seen him. Thirdly, up this damn close, the mantle having slipped down and his face now showing, it was now clear that he was currently being pinned by six feet of tall, dark and gorgeous. That last thought was the one that was really threatening to make his brain blow a fuse. Especially because he could feel Vincent's breath on his lips, the gunman's face less than six inches from his own.

 

Turks underwent military training along with the rest of ShinRa recruits; they were basically a specialist squad. And as a young cadet there could be no young man in barracks who hadn't messed around with other guys, it was impossible to have a relationship or a steady bed partner as a cadet and so you experimented. It was at this time Tseng had discovered that he had no real preference when it came to gender, he found both equally as attractive, and the knowledge that Vincent had to have at least done the same, was that up close and personal and damn… was a very attractive male made a few things in his brain sit up and take interest. But what was worrying him most of all was that Vincent had him feeling out of control, which as the head of his department he never was, and he was liking it. There was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline that came with that feeling, his body on high alert. Suddenly dry mouthed he licked his lips, his heart skipping a beat as Vincent's eyes snapped to the movement.

 

More than a little pissed off Vincent had just acted, an emotional outburst, something that was rare for him. But in that moment of silence after the question was asked, or more accurately growled, he was suddenly finding himself on a very similar train of thought to the man he'd shoved against the wall. He'd never quite noticed before the fine bone structure that made up Tseng's features, or how attractive he was when slightly breathless, lips parted like that. The fact that he was noticing such things right now he was putting down to the fact that he had been asleep in a coffin for thirty years and his libido had just decided to come out hibernation at precisely the worst moment it possibly could. That concerned him most because he could feel Chaos like an itch in the back of his brain becoming interested at the sudden rush of hormones its host was flooded with. And then Tseng wet his lips and sent every rational thought out of his head.

 

It was a moment that left his mind wide open to being usurped by a reluctant lodger, one that jumped at the sudden opportunity for freedom, no matter how fleeting and Tseng found himself suddenly very concerned as red eyes suddenly became gold. But Vincent had been controlling the demon for a very long time and was quickly wresting control back, eyes becoming crimson again. But he was left with this feeling of hunger and want that was only partly due to the demon. Their eyes never left each other as in that moment the air around them seemed to be charged, electric, Vincent moving on instinct alone, about to close the gap between them, Tseng not about to try to stop him, when Tseng's phone suddenly rang, the tone seeming impossibly loud in the charged atmosphere.

 

Vincent suddenly stepped away from Tseng as if the device had stung him, the moment shattered, Tseng moving to answer it, not sure if he was pleased or annoyed at the interruption. A quick look at the display told him who it was.

 

“What is it Reno?” He asked testily.

 

“You done yet boss? I'm getting pretty bored waiting around. Being chauffeur is boring yo.”

 

Tseng rolled his eyes at the redhead's words, turning to where Vincent was, correction, had been, the man now having disappeared.

 

“Yes Reno I'm done here. I'll be there in a moment.”

 

He looked down the alley, wondering if Vincent was hiding in the shadows or had simply left. He was also wondering what the hell had just happened. Well, this was one report he wasn't looking forward to giving to Rufus. He sighed and started to walk to where Reno was waiting for him in the car. When he'd come here he had been determined that this occasion would be different. He really ought to be careful what he wished for.

 

 

 

The Pursuit

 

As usual Tseng had made his report to Rufus who had taken it with all the grace that he usually did, which was very little. Rufus had grown and learnt from his father's mistakes, but he could still act like the spoiled brat at times. But the task done he had spent some time musing on what had happened, or more accurately musing on his sudden attraction to the other man. Well it wasn't as if he hadn't noticed it before, in fact he had when Vincent had gotten him and Elena away from the sadistic hands of Kadaj and his brothers. Vincent had done what he could for them both, using cure spells to get them out of danger, before gently patching them up as best he could. As a Turk he had been trained in basic field medicine but was no healer, he was a soldier first just like they all were.

 

The two had spent a couple of days under Vincent's care while he had arranged for transport to get them back to Reno, Rude and Rufus. Not much had been said between them. Vincent was quiet and withdrawn at the best of times with anyone, and Tseng had been too tired from his injuries to really be a conversationalist. There were the unspoken understandings though. Once a Turk always a Turk; though Vincent was the only one who had ever left the service of the department alive… sort of. But he knew without asking that Vincent would be both discreet and keep them safe, Turks looked after their own. But he'd had plenty of time to watch Vincent, the graceful way in which he moved, the sadness in his eyes, and the mournful beauty he wore almost unaware of it. But one had to be careful not to take him at face value. Yes, his appearance spoke of danger, though his bearing and actions rarely told the same story. Yet he was more dangerous than one would ever guess.

 

Tseng told himself that it was natural to be analysing what happened in the alley, trying to understand where he'd gone wrong, how he could have changed the outcome, but it wasn't natural to be still doing so a week later. He knew what it was though he was trying to avoid admitting it to himself. It had been that Vincent had made him feel vulnerable in that strange and charged moment, and he had found himself loving the feeling of being out of control. He was always in control, he had to be, other people's lives depended on it, but for a single moment in time, he'd had control taken away from him and it had excited him. Where had this come from? It was confusing and distracting, and it had him thinking about the pale gunman more and more. That was what he didn't understand. Why couldn't he let that moment go?

 

The answer to that question was of course simple, he didn't want to. He was also not being helped by the man in question. Two days after their little… altercation Tseng had gotten the feeling of being watched. Well it wasn't so unusual, he just took careful note of the fact and took the safety off his gun. The next time it happened he took notice. He found that he was followed to and from his home each morning and night. It was Vincent, he knew it even though he had not seen him. It had to be, no-one else but a Turk could conceal himself like that and his subordinates would never stalk him. It was getting on his nerves. He didn't like the feeling of being hunted. But it raised a very interesting question, just why was Vincent doing this?

 

Well the answer to that was very simple as well, that he wasn't the only one feeling this almost magnetic attraction to the other. For Vincent it was actually a little more complicated than that. Yes the attraction was there, that was undeniable, but unlike Tseng he also had a demon within him that had been restless ever since that charged moment between them. That blasted rush of hormones as he recognised his attraction to the other man had woken the beast within and now it would not settle back down into slumber. It was this constant itch in the back of his mind that just would not let up. It kept him feeling hungry and wanting. It was also the demon that had him stalking Tseng. The problem with the damn thing when it was like this was that to a degree it could force its own wants on him, and the stalking behaviour was that of the demon on the prowl for a mate. Vincent tried to resist it, but the demon tried to push its way to the surface if he did that so he found himself forced into acquiescence as releasing Chaos was not an option.

 

Vincent longed for a resolution to this, but the only option actually seemed to be making a move on the other man. This he was not bold enough to do. After the failed attempts at wooing Lucrecia and the resultant horrors he had suffered through after his death and subsequent reanimation, he had a pretty big complex when it came to approaching other people in a relationship context. But he was not the only one who was tired of this. Tseng was too. He wanted this unending feeling of tension, this… itch to be scratched. He couldn't get Vincent from his mind and it was distracting him so much that it was affecting his work. Having Rufus ShinRa asking you why you were daydreaming was the ultimate embarrassment. He had NEVER been caught daydreaming about anything in his life. He had probably never daydreamed. Until now.

 

So the day came when Tseng was sat alone in his office, delaying leaving because he didn't want to feel those eyes on him as he walked. In a moment of temper and frustration he slammed his fist against the desk. This had to end. He would force this to go one way or another. He would call Vincent's bluff. The consummate planner he sat for a while and mused on a plan of action. He had to draw Vincent to a place where he would never willingly go under normal circumstances. This would tell him if he was serious or not. By turning up it would be a statement of intent in itself. It meant that he too would have to go into a situation where he would not be comfortable but it would be worth it to tip the balance one way or the other. He figured that Vincent would either turn up and they would take the next step, there would be no turning back at that point as it would be a blatant declaration of their desire for each other. Or Vincent would not turn up at all having decided to end this game and it would be dropped and forgotten. Either option was better than the situation as it stood.

 

So he sat and wrote the note detailing the time, the place and the other necessary instructions. Sealing it inside an envelope he tucked it into his jacket's inside pocket before walking out of the door. In an instant he felt those eyes on him. He sighed; this situation really was impossible. He walked briskly, deliberately taking a detour, knowing that would pique his stalker's interest, especially when he walked inside the 7th Heaven bar. He wasted no time and marched up to the bar where Tifa had just finished serving a customer.

 

“I need you to give this to Valentine and only Valentine.” He said brusquely and held out the note for her.

 

“What is it?” She asked curious in that way women were. Probably because this involved Vincent. Women tended to be curious about him.

 

“It is for his eyes only. See that he gets it.” He said with an easy authority that brooked no argument. He turned his back on her, his interest in her at an end. “He should be here shortly.” He said over his shoulder before walking out.

 

He paused outside the bar looking around, trying to pick up any trace of the man, but predictably there was none. He was there though, he was sure of that. With a last deep breath he turned and walked home.

 

Inside the bar Tifa was confused. It was rare that anyone saw Tseng. The other Turks yes, Rude and Reno in particular were often here off duty. They were good regular customers that usually left before they got too drunk. Mainly because they knew how good Tifa was with her fists. Get hit by one of them and you could say goodbye to eating solid food for a while. Tseng to her knowledge did not drink, or rather on the very rare occasions that he stepped foot into her bar it was not to drink and it was never a social call. That had just about classed as one, an event very out of the ordinary. She frowned looking at the now empty doorway that Tseng had just exited from. Just what was he up to and what did he want with Vincent?

 

She looked at the note in her hand and was about to put it on the shelf behind her when movement at the door caught her eye, or more accurately a flash of red did. When she looked up and saw Vincent her jaw nearly hit the floor. How in hell had Tseng known? She'd not even had time to be tempted to open it and read it yet. Looking concerned Vincent walked straight up to her.

 

“What did Tseng do when he was here?” He asked.

 

Well that was Vincent for you, all business, what she wouldn't give for a simple `hi Tifa, how are you? Keeping well thank you, you must stop by and see Marlene she keeps asking after you, I will how is she…' or something of that order. Men, they had no clue whatsoever.

 

“Actually, he left this for you.” She said and held out the note she had never even had chance to put down. She was interested to see that Vincent looked as puzzled as she felt.

 

He took the note from her, his brow furrowed in consternation, trying to work out what was on Tseng's mind.

 

“Vincent, can I ask what is going on?” Tifa tried; well she didn't expect she would get to see the note now so she had to try to find out what was happening somehow.

 

Vincent looked at her sharply, and she found herself surprised by the amount of aggression behind the look. But Vincent softened quickly.

 

“I am not entirely sure myself.” Well it was no lie and he had no inclination to tell Tifa about what he was feeling in regards to the other man. He wasn't inclined to tell anyone for that matter. “Thank you.” He said to the young woman, before turning around and walking out.

 

“You're welcome.” She called to his retreating back. “Though what for I have no idea.” She muttered to herself.

 

Once outside Vincent was getting himself somewhere alone where he would not be disturbed. Settling on the roof of a nearby building he opened the envelope to read the note inside. As he did so his eyes widened. He couldn't believe that Tseng had suggested that they meet to deal with this, it was sheer madness. But as for the rest of the instructions… impossible! Then why was he already planning this in his head? He sighed heavily. He had two days to make up his mind. This was not going to be easy.

 

 

 

The Final Dance

 

Tseng was about to declare himself stark raving mad. He really, really, really couldn't believe that he was doing this. What had possessed him to suggest this? He was in an impossible situation, being the one to have proposed this little meet he could not be the one to not turn up. If Vincent came and he didn't it would smack of cowardice. So here he was, more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life and feeling so utterly naked. Okay, he had better clarify that thought. He was currently sat in one of the seedier bars in Edge. It was one of those places where people deliberately did not take notice of who or what was coming and going on around them because taking notice usually meant very painful results. To make sure he didn't stick out like a sore thumb Tseng had forgone his usual Turk attire, and had instructed Vincent to do the same should he show. He had also instructed him to leave his guns behind and he would do the same. That was something he was regretting right now.

 

So currently, he was sat at one of the most dangerous bars in town, off duty, dressed in rough black jeans, a fitted white t-shirt, his fingerless gloves which also had the knuckles exposed (very good for increasing the grip on the butt of a gun) and a pair of old work boots that were only just worn enough to pass muster in a place like this as not being smart, no just vaguely nearly new. He had also let his hair down, properly. Not the groomed back but loose fall it normally was, but hanging round his face, something it only ever was at home, normally immaculate about his appearance. That wasn't the real issue here. The issue was that he was sat at the bar, with a very large barman, leering appreciatively at him and he had no gun with which to blow his kneecaps off with, or his brains out, though he severely doubted that the latter option would make any difference to his level of intelligence. And if the drunk sat two stools down from him took one more swipe at his ass he was going home with all eight fingers and two thumbs broken.

 

He mused agitatedly on his choice of setting. He figured that the only way to find out if Vincent really wanted something to happen between them was to get the former Turk well outside of his comfort zone. This was the best option he could think of at the time when writing that note. Or rather the most suitable for the purpose. Though it also meant taking himself well outside of his comfort zone too. But there was something about this place, well firstly that no-one would ever expect either of them to come here, or even look for them in such a place had it's draw, meaning that should they actually meet this would remain a secret, he valued his privacy highly and knew that Vincent was the same. So he was telling himself that this decision had everything to do with practicality, and absolutely nothing at all to do with the undercurrent of excitement coursing through him.

 

As he looked around he knew he didn't need a gun to drop anyone in here, he was more than skilled enough. He knew that the others saw him, slim build, pale skin, and thought him a weakling, wondered what he was doing in a place like this. If they thought that about him what about a featherweight like Vincent? And he was possibly one of the most dangerous men walking the planet. It was a feeling of power, knowing that he could best any one of them, and it was darkly exciting. But it did nothing to calm his nerves. He really didn't know how he wanted things to go tonight. If Vincent didn't turn up then he suspected that he would be disappointed, but at least things would be over. But he was a little frightened of what would happen if Vincent did turn up. They were under no illusions what this was about. If he came the night was going to end only one way, they both knew that.

 

The problem was that he had turned up early as a Turk always would, to check out his surroundings, pick his spot and basically make sure things were to his satisfaction. Well as much as meeting in a seedy bar could be to anyone's satisfaction. But in what could only be described as nerves he had gotten here too early, was overanalysing the situation and currently working himself into a state of agitation. It was time to do what any of his subordinates would do to wind down. Have a drink of something that actually had some kick to it. He had started with a beer, low alcohol level, and he would have rather not been drinking at all but there was no way he could sit in a place like this without something alcoholic and have any credibility. But now he needed something stronger to settle his nerves. He waved over the barman who was way too happy to leer at him.

 

“What can I get you?”

 

Oh dear Titan he even managed to get the leer into that question.

 

“Give me a double of whatever you have that's strongest.”

 

The barkeep raised an eyebrow appreciatively. “That's serious stuff. You planning on walking out of here tonight?”

 

Something in his tone let Tseng know he was hoping the answer was no. Tseng had to refrain from punching the bastard's ugly face in.

 

“Just get on with it.” He snapped.

 

“And make that two.”

 

Tseng's heart suddenly dropped into his stomach ad sat there like a stone at the sound of the deep gravel filled voice from behind him. There was no mistaking who it belonged to, and in his irritation at the man before him, he had let his guard down and completely missed the man coming up behind him. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before turning to see him. He was very glad he had taken that breath because seeing Vincent like this took his breath away. Stood right behind him, in almost impossibly black denim jeans (Tseng had never even seen a garment like them and they were possibly the last thing he was expecting to see Vincent wear) a black, high necked vest, a pair of boots with about as many buckles on as Vincent's normal outfit normally had on, and the belt with the heavy buckle in the shape of two guns crossed... well it was mind blowing. To top it off he appeared to be in one long fingerless glove that reached up past his elbow on his left arm, also with buckles on, as well as leaving his hair down much like Tseng had. But unlike Tseng's whose hair was severely cut in one neat and straight layer, the multilayered strands of Vincent's hair, always wild looking but presumably tamed by the bandana, fell about his face in a messy disarray that only added to the stunning image before him. By all the Gods the man was gorgeous.

 

On some kind of autopilot he found himself nodding to the barman, outwardly continuing with his normal cool and calm efficiency, while his mind was trying desperately not to implode under the weight of the number of thoughts trying to be processed at once. He was suddenly glad that he had instructed Vincent to come dressed so he wouldn't be recognised. There was no way that anyone seeing him now would believe it was him, he hardly believed it himself. His eyes rested on the glove on his left arm, and he had figured as much. He had found out when Vincent had tended to him and Elena in the Forgotten City that the golden claw as a gauntlet, a weapon. Vincent had removed it in order to tend better to their wounds. At the time Tseng had suspected that he and Elena were the first people to ever see him without it on, and even then his arm had been covered as it was now. He was hiding it for some reason or another, and the rumour that the claw was a permanent fixture obviously suited his purposes.

 

As Vincent sat down he was dry mouthed. It had taken two days of arguing with himself over and over again to get to the point where he had decided to take this step, and set them both on this course. The matter had been entirely in his hands, but there was no going back now. As the bartender returned with their drinks Tseng paid, while paying no heed to what he was doing at all, his eyes on Vincent. They both sat there, looking at each other, not saying a word. Tseng raised his glass in a silent toast, Vincent joining him, the two men downing their drinks as one. Their reactions however differed. Vincent winced, the acrid liquid really was something else, frowning in displeasure and distaste. Tseng on the other hand went slightly pale, wide eyed, and coughed once and loudly.

 

“Sweet Gaea!” He said hoarsely. “I know I wanted something with some kick, but not something that kicks like a bull Chocobo!”

 

He swore it had made his vision slightly blurry and shook his head to clear it. Vincent chuckled.

 

“Not much of a drinker Tseng?” The question a mild taunt.

 

Tseng narrowed his eyes at Vincent, slightly annoyed by this. “No, you?”

 

Vincent's eyes never left his. “You might be surprised.”

 

There was something in his tone that made Tseng curious, but there was also that warning edge to his voice that also made him realise that asking any further was not an option.

 

“An unusual choice of place to meet. I had to wonder if you had gone mad.”

 

Tseng smirked. “I had to be sure, I knew if I did this I would know one way or another.”

 

“Know what?”

 

“Why you are stalking me.”

 

Vincent suddenly disengaged eye contact, Tseng smirking triumphantly. Ah so Vincent was a little embarrassed about that. When he'd been doing it so shamelessly, he wondered why it bothered him.

 

“You saw me?” Vincent's tone was disbelieving.

 

Tseng shook his head. “You're a Turk…”

 

“Former Turk.” He found himself corrected tersely.

 

“Former Turk.” He continued undeterred. “But I am one and I know when I am being watched. Only you could have kept yourself so completely hidden.”

 

Vincent made an annoyed noise of acknowledgement which only served to make Tseng smirk even more. Now that this situation was unfolding it was enjoyable to be the one in control of it. Vincent was on edge, seemingly at odds with himself over this, despite them both knowing why they were here. It gave Tseng all the room he needed to take control of the situation, like he always did. But Vincent wasn't happy about this, and was quietly looking for a way to make himself more at ease, Tseng's outward cockiness bothering him. This time he was the one who ordered the drinks, back to beer for Tseng and he matched him. Neither of them were in the mood for more of the battery acid they had drunk earlier. Tseng was watching the bartender with a wary eye.

 

“Do you ever stop working?” Vincent asked, well aware that Tseng was seeing everyone and everything with a Turk's eye.

 

Tseng looked at him, brow furrowing slightly, an attractive look on him before he shrugged. “I guess not, but you know as well as anyone why you can't let your guard down.”

 

Vincent had to hold back the slight growl that came to his throat. He did not like being reminded of the fact that deciding Hojo was not a threat because of his stature had been incredibly poor judgement. The small man pulling the gun on him was the last thing anyone would have expected from him, but he should have still been ready for it. It was a jibe, a gentle one, but it did prick at what he had left of his pride.

 

Tseng immediately regretted it, but due to his own pride would never back down, not in words at any rate, but Vincent didn't miss the way the Turk's gaze dropped for a moment, and he flushed slightly, it was almost imperceptible, and would be to anyone else, but not to his eyes, not after all the enhancements to his body. Well that would do him, knowing the slight was not intentional. But one thing was certain, they were posturing. Both had a dominant personality, one because he had been a leader pretty much all of his life, the other because he had learned the hard way that he needed control, for several reasons. Control was a very big thing in both their lives.

 

“Look, why don't we leave your work out of it.” Vincent suggested tersely, getting sick of the constant references to his past as a Turk.

 

Tseng nodded, despite Vincent coming here he could walk away at any time, and that was something he found that he didn't want. Now that they were here, he wanted to see this run its course. They both felt that nervous anticipation, that tension between them. But there were other eyes on them in the dark space they were occupying.

 

“You like danger much?” Vincent asked, the two both aware that they were being watched.

 

“I can handle it, and if I can so can you.”

 

But someone was coming up behind Vincent, Tseng watching as Vincent tensed without even turning. As a large hand came to rest on Vincent's shoulder he heard the soft growl that came from the gunman's throat, though the drunken man behind him obviously did not because he leered at Vincent.

 

“If you want to keep that hand I suggest you remove it.” Tseng suggested helpfully while crimson eyes glared at the transgressor.

 

“Aww come on, he's so pretty. You sellin' this?”

 

Had he not been expecting it he would not have seen Vincent move before hearing the obscene crack of bone, the sharp cry of pain from the drunk. Other clientele looked up at the sound to see Vincent, the drunk's wrist in hand, the hand bent back at an unnatural angle and the red eyed man looking quite feral. There was a tense moment where it looked like other patrons might kick off turn this into a bar fight, but Tseng stood up behind him, ready to back him up, looking suddenly as dangerous as he could be as he cracked his knuckles. The message was loudly received, the two should be given a wide berth. With a snarl Vincent shoved the drunk away, who whimpering slunk off cradling his broken wrist.

 

Tseng was about to say something when suddenly those glowing eyes were turned on him, Vincent advancing towards him suddenly which had him backing off rather quickly; he had no idea what Vincent might do in his current state. The only problem was that she found himself blocked by a wall and he found himself in that same position he had been in alley once again, backed up to the wall, heart pounding in anticipation, unsure as to what Vincent might do but fuck, he was enjoying the feeling of being out of control Vincent managed to instil in him. But he had no time to think on anything as Vincent closed the gap between them, his mouth claiming Tseng's in a hungry and demanding kiss, pinning him to the wall with his body. Tseng was surprised at the little moan that escaped him as his lips parted, allowing the roused gunman to plunder his mouth. He wasn't sure what had come over Vincent but right this moment he was not willing to argue, all thoughts of posturing and power play gone, this little incident seeming to have sparked a fire within the gunman, one that was bringing this little situation of theirs to what seemed to be an inevitable conclusion.

 

As Vincent finally broke the kiss, pulling back a little, they were both breathing hard, and Tseng was not surprised to see the gold bleeding into the red of Vincent's eyes. Though the suddenness of this was a little surprising, even a little frightening.

 

“Vincent?” He almost whispered the name in question.

 

“I'm annoyed, I'm hungry; I suggest we get out of here.” Came the growl in answer.

 

Tseng nodded, that was very good idea indeed, though the reasons for their leaving, what it was going to result in… the thought had him swallowing hard. Still as Vincent released him he noticed that the gunman let him take his own path, falling in step behind him, not being half as possessive as he had just been. All eyes were on the two as they swiftly left, though Tseng was aware of the gaze of only one person. The red gold eyes bored into his back and he felt as if he were prey, being allowed to wander free, but at the slightest attempt of escape he would be pounced on in an instant. He realised he was enjoying the feeling of power Vincent gave off; it was this that excited him. The realisation made him realise why he had enjoyed playing the game with Vincent in the first place, never complained when Rufus sent him on what was basically a fool's errand. He may have a reason for thanking his boss later.

 

As they got outside he asked the inevitable question. “Where did you have in mind?”

 

“I think the operative question is where did you have in mind? This was your idea?”

 

Yes it was Vincent, but you agreed to it or you wouldn't be here. But no matter. With a sharp nod Tseng just turned to lead the way to his apartment. It was a gamble, taking Vincent into such a personal space, but after the stalking it wasn't like Vincent didn't know where he lived or anything. And besides, this whole night was about taking risks or they wouldn't be doing it at all. But the choice was an easy one, he was prepared for the eventuality, he was a Turk, he was prepared for almost any eventuality in a given situation, though he was the most unsure he had been in a very long time tonight.

 

It took them a while, the two walking in silence, Vincent a step behind him, the gunman knowing very quickly where they were going without having to be told. But soon enough they were at the small apartment. He used to have a larger one, before Meteor and the destruction of Midgar, but like everyone else, he'd had to forget what had been in Midgar and concentrate on something new. So he had a small apartment here in Edge, not far from where Rufus had started the rebuild of the company, though to the public eye the base was still in Healin. But once a ShinRa always a ShinRa. It was such inane thoughts that were keeping him from thinking too hard on what he was doing. What he was doing right now was not thinking for once, and reaching for something he wanted.

 

He unlocked the door, kicking off his shoes just inside and gesturing for Vincent to follow. Vincent stepped inside arching his eyebrow elegantly before bending down to take off his boots. As he pulled them off Tseng shook his head.

 

“Do you own any normal footwear?” He said thinking of the pointed brass plated ones he usually sported.

 

“I don't think that matters here and now.” Vincent replied sternly.

 

Tseng looked him in the eye for the first time since they left the bar, intrigued to see that the gold had gone from his eyes, Vincent obviously completely back in control. But one must never forget what lay beneath the surface of an already dangerous man. He had several firearms secreted around this apartment. He had no doubt that the man before him was better than him at using any of them, he'd seen the files. He led Vincent into the apartment, the gunman taking a good look around as they walked.

 

“ShinRa still pays well then.” He commented on what was obviously quite an expensive apartment, especially in the post-Meteor days

 

“You should know, you've had plenty of offers.”

 

Vincent snorted. So they were back to posturing again. But Tseng was pouring them both a drink, two fingers of a clear liquid into small tumblers. He handed the glass to Vincent without a word, raising his in a toast.

 

“Here's to the mighty ShinRa, may the son learn from his father's mistakes.”

 

It was a toast Vincent was willing to join in. Both drained their glasses in one, putting them down on the side.

 

“Very nice, expensive.” Vincent commented.

 

“It was what I was aiming for when I asked for something strong at the bar.”

 

Yes the drink had that clean and clear taste, it had a kick, but without the dreadful acidity of an afterburn they had had earlier from the drink at the bar.

 

“Battery acid is all they can afford.”

 

“Spare me the social commentary Vincent.” Tseng snapped.

 

Vincent was a little annoyed by Tseng at this point, mind you anything connected to ShinRa had a tendency to annoy him.

 

“That's what annoys me about you and the rest of them. You live in your ivory towers and forget about the rest of the world. A lot of people are suffering in this world and you and your boss just sit and pretend it isn't happening.”

 

But Tseng was now peeved by Vincent. He had no clue about what he and the other Turks felt, they had all fought hard, often had to turn a blind eye to a lot. They had all fought for him personally and he would not stand a slight to any of them… well, except perhaps Reno… in some cases.

 

“What do you expect us to do Vincent? We are but single people, we can do nothing.”

 

“Well you work for Rufus.”

 

Tseng laughed. “Oh don't be so naïve you fool. Oh I forgot, it was your naïveté that got you shot.”

 

Tseng didn't know what had hit him but his world existed only of the pain in the back of his head where he was shoved against the wall, and a pair of glowing gold eyes. He knew he had overstepped the boundary and as the fear came into his eyes, just a hint of it Vincent stopped, once more captivated by the sight of Tseng slightly flushed, breathing hard, lips parted. This time he didn't hesitate to close the gap, that bridge had been crossed already, and kissed Tseng with all the pent up feelings he had. Desire, anger, loneliness, want, so many things were in that hungry embrace, Tseng joining it with equal fervour, feeling so many of the same things as Vincent was. And he was damned if he was going to be pinned to a wall for a third time and not fight his corner.

 

It was all teeth and tongues, biting and battling for dominance as hands grabbed at each other, pulling each other as close as humanly possible, Vincent using his advantage to keep Tseng pinned where he was. But Tseng had not gotten to where he was today without being able to handle himself. He managed get into a position with leverage, all without breaking the frantic kissing and shoved Vincent back, before grabbing him by his top and yanking him towards the bedroom. Along the way Vincent tried to take back control, but only half succeeded in the pin, grabbing a handful of dark hair and yanking Tseng's head back. As his throat was bared his eyes fixated on the pulse point at the other's neck. The demon inside of him hammered at its' host, longing to get out, to taste the life essence of the other man. Vincent stalled not wanting to give in to the base desires of the demon, the action alerting Tseng to the moment of weakness.

 

It was this that allowed him to get them both into the bedroom, all the time thinking on how he could gain control in this situation. While he was enjoying Vincent wresting control from him, it was only enjoyable when he put up a fight for it. By now they were back to hungrily devouring each other, hands sliding over each other, both getting more than a little uncomfortable in their nether regions due to the restriction of clothing. Vincent's hands were roaming under his t-shirt, over his sides, firmly kneading the muscles of his back before a hand would slide down to grope at his hip, his ass, but he was the same. As his hands roamed over him he felt the raised ridges of scars over his skin against the pads of his fingers. Impatient to feel Vincent and annoyed by how his gloves were impeding him he stripped them off hurriedly. It seemed Vincent was tired of dealing with clothing as well as he was yanking roughly at his t-shirt, Tseng obliging to get it over his head.

 

Vincent stepped back a little to get a better view of Tseng now he had him in a state of half undress, the Turk smirking slightly as red gold eyes took in his form. Out of his uniform Tseng was slender but strong in form, body toned and taught. He was marked here and there with the odd scar, one or two definitely being bullets, others he recognised from the torture Kadaj and his brothers had put him through, but the most remarkable one was the one just beneath his breastbone. Vincent remembered all too well finding Tseng along with Aeris and Cloud at the Temple of The Ancients, still alive after Sephiroth ran him through with the monstrous Masamune. He knew there were would be a matching scar on his back where the blade had exited his body. Tseng's skin was pale and almost luminescent, slightly flushed from the heat between them. As his eyes returned once more back to his face Tseng deliberately pushed his hair back over his shoulder, tilting his head back to expose his neck, suppressing the grin as he heard Vincent growl. Yes he knew just how to handle him now.

 

He was the one that closed the gap between them now, yanking the vest off Vincent, letting his hands roam freely over bared flesh. But he was surprised at just how uneven the skin beneath his fingers was, stopping to look at the bared chest for a moment. Even he was a little surprised at what he saw. The sheer extent of the scars crisscrossing over the gunman's body. Vincent sighed and decided he had nothing to lose. He pulled off the one long glove as Tseng watched, revealing that if Hojo had been thorough on his torso, then he had really gone to town on his left arm. Tseng suddenly understood why he was never seen without the golden claw.

 

“I knew it had been bad, but this…”

 

Yes he had seen what notes Hojo had left, and he was terrible at it, missing out a hell of a lot. They had gathered Hojo's note in the search for Jenova's head in the aftermath of Meteor.

 

“He was nothing if not thorough.” Vincent agreed.

 

But he wanted off the subject and back to the matter in hand. Though this little pause had served to slow down the frenzy. As they came together once more this time flesh pressed against flesh making them both moan into the passionate kiss, want more than just this. Tseng led them both back to the bed, both men losing belts along the way, the two kneeling on the soft surface. Vincent gripped Tseng by the back of his neck, grabbing a good amount of hair at the same time, as the fingers on his other hand dipped beneath the waist of Tseng's jeans at the back. Tseng was aching to get the damn things off, they were not his usual attire and he felt damn uncomfortable in them, more so when he was sporting an erection. But as Vincent broke the kiss, finally unable to resist travelling to his neck Tseng smiled.

 

It was heaven having Vincent lavish kisses, sucks and gentle nips along the sensitive flesh, but as the gunman felt the raging pulse beneath his lips he stalled, a slight growl escaping him as the demon made its' desires known. Tseng was aware that he was breathing hard in anticipation.

 

“Do it.” He hissed, loving how Vincent flinched at the order, rolling his head back further to give him better access. “I don't care if it hurts, if it's what you want.”

 

Oh the growl that escaped his lover at that point. The grip on his hair suddenly became fierce, yanking his head right back to the point of strain, and with it came that sensation of being out of control as he grabbed at Vincent in an effort to keep his balance, that battle distracting him from the man opening his trousers, until the relief of being freed from confinement hit him. He groaned as a firm hand began to stroke and stimulate his length, the pleasure hitting him hard, and instant before the pain did as Vincent bit down hard. Pain and pleasure melted together as Vincent made him bleed, sucking and licking at the bite mark he had made, a low rumble of a growl escaping from deep within his belly. Tseng moaned; he'd never tried this kind of rough play before but the combination of everything, the helplessness, the pain, the pleasure, mixed deliciously into a heady cocktail he couldn't get enough of.

 

He was shoved roughly back on the bed and as he opened his eyes he saw that Vincent's eyes were now completely gold, the demon enjoying the offering that was freely given. He helped his lover hurriedly undress him, and likewise stripped his roused lover. As Vincent kissed him he could taste the metallic tang of his own blood on his lover's tongue. His neck throbbed where he'd been so harshly bitten and he knew he would be wearing that mark for quite some time. Not that he cared, walking around knowing it was there was going to keep him excited for a while. He rolled them over, not taking no for an answer, determined to get a taste of his lover now things had started in earnest. Vincent was about to wrest control back from Tseng but as a hungry mouth began to map his neck and chest, sending delightful shivers through him he chose to acquiesce for the time being.

 

With fingers, lips and tongue Tseng began to map out the topography of his lover. He knew Vincent did not care for the way he looked, all these scars, but he was still a beautiful man, slim body taught and toned. In everything he did he was an interesting conundrum, moving with the dangerous elegance of a predator, that the only hint of the dangerous beast he carried within him. He found that some of the scars were actually quite sensitive, drawing little gasping hisses from his lover's lips, something which pleased him greatly. Vincent tossed his head back, closing his eyes almost overwhelmed by this. Thirty years in a damned coffin and this was the first time he'd let anyone near him. He was wound so tight that every touch seemed to brand him, add to the feeling building within, the need, the want. As Tseng got to his engorged sex, running his tongue up the entire length his back arced, bowing off the bed and he couldn't take it anymore.

 

Roughly he grabbed Tseng by the hair, yanking him into a position on his hands and knees over him as he sat up to meet that mouth with his own. Tseng almost yelped at the suddenness of the action but had his mouth filled by a plundering tongue so had no time to argue. Then Vincent's lips were by his ear.

 

“Lube, now!” He demanded, before releasing his grip.

 

Tseng didn't need to be told twice, he was as eager as his lover for this right now. Both were wound up so tight, eager for conclusion. True they were acting like a couple of horny kids, but one of them had not seen any action for over thirty years, and the other rarely let anyone in. Their raging libidos were matched perfectly. Being prepared as he was it was just a short lunge to the drawer where it was kept, Vincent waiting for the moment that it was in Tseng's hand before grabbing him and flipping him over so the raven-haired Turk lay beneath him. Tseng was cursing the fact that Vincent was so fast. He was on his back, lube out of his hand before he knew it, and while he went to fight back he was swiftly distracted as Vincent's mane of dark hair ghosted over his inner thighs.

 

Looking down to see Vincent take a long, languorous lick of his length as if it were the most exquisite treat he'd ever tasted was nearly enough to short circuit his mind, it certainly had him groaning for more, and more he got. As that mouth he had been kissing so hungrily engulfed the most sensitive part of him he let out a strangled moan, he couldn't help it. When a slick finger pressed against his puckered entrance he felt the momentary annoyance, he'd wanted to be the one taking the gunman, but as if sensing the thought Vincent sucked harder, and the Turk finally surrendered. Vincent was swift and efficient in his preparation of his lover, not having the patience to draw it out into a long tease, and no matter how Tseng twisted and moved with him in an attempt to get him to brush over his prostate, he deliberately denied the Turk. He was loving the frustrated grunts that this tore from the normally controlled man, and he tore down the defences one by one, making Tseng submit to his will.

 

All at once, fingers and mouth left him, Tseng surprised at the disappointed moan that escaped him before he could all it back. But he had no time to be embarrassed as Vincent was pulling him to his knees, and he found himself being positioned to the gunman's liking. He was kneeling, Vincent behind him, a hand wrapped loosely round his throat, not tight, but enough to give the message, the ex-Turk was in control and would remain so. A hard cock was pressed into the cleft between his buttocks, the other hand trailing down his chest, making him hiss as nails dug harshly into his flesh. He groaned and ground back against Vincent making him shudder.

 

“Enough of the games, get on with it since it's what you want.”

 

“And what do you want?” Vincent purred in his ear as he cosseted Tseng's arousal making him moan.

 

“Fuck me already!” He growled, unable to take everything combined.

 

He moaned as Vincent pressed against his portal, feeling his lover trembling slightly in anticipation, before he carefully breached the Turk. Both men groaned as they became one, Vincent tightening the grip at Tseng's throat slightly, not enough to restrict his flow of air, but enough to establish control, and excite Tseng further as Vincent was buried to the hilt inside him. Vincent held them this way for a moment, both needing time to adjust. The gunman gently shifted his grip round the pale and slender throat, while his free hand came to rest at Tseng's hip, taking a firm grip. Tseng reached behind him, tangling fingers into a sable mane, turning his face, Vincent obliging him with a kiss as the other hand grabbed onto Vincent's hip. Tseng moaned as Vincent finally moved, the friction incredible.

 

Tseng broke the kiss allowing his head to fall back against his lover's shoulder as they moved as one, thrust after thrust, both gasping and moaning. Vincent's fingers dug deep into his hip with a force that would leave bruises, but Tseng did not mind, he welcomed it, the slight pain mingling with the intense pleasure in an enticing counterpoint that left him wanting more. And more he got as Vincent dipped his head to his shoulder, biting him again, harder this time, making Tseng cry out in pained ecstasy as his lover's thrusting became fiercer, blood running from the bite. Vincent growled, a low feral sound that came form chaos, Tseng's eyes rolling back in his head as he was overwhelmed by it all. The agonising pleasure building in his belly, the pain in his shoulder and hip, the grip at his throat, he was close to edge, and by the way his lover's thrusting grew in intensity, the growls as he lapped up blood, then Vincent was too.

 

Tseng let it all wash over him, his grip on Vincent's hair and hip tightening as the peak neared, flesh against flesh, the final steps of the dance they shared playing themselves out in blood and ecstasy. Vincent threw his head back, hair fanning out behind him as he picked up the pace, hammering into his lover's prostate mercilessly. It was all it took to throw Tseng over the edge with a roar, Vincent thrusting into Tseng's tightening embrace, the friction around him almost too much to bear, a few more harsh thrusts into Tseng's taught body had his whole body tensing as with a guttural cry he too reached orgasm violently. He collapsed back onto his heels, Tseng resting heavily against him, both exhausted as the flame of their passion finally abated. All they could hear was the sound of their loudly beating hearts, blood rushing in their ears, and their ragged breathing.

 

Finally Vincent's grip relaxed, becoming gentle, holding the other man to him softly, the gesture making Tseng smile.

 

“Don't tell me you cuddle Valentine.” He teased tiredly.

 

“Shut up.” It was as much as Vincent could manage after their wild coupling.

 

“Did I say I was complaining?”

 

“I don't care if you are.”

 

Tseng chuckled, from where Vincent's head was resting against his shoulder he could feel the gunman smiling. He pulled himself from the embrace, turning to face his lover, glowing eyes now completely crimson, gently taking his face in his hand to kiss him deeply.

 

“That was incredible.” He murmured against Vincent's lips.

 

Vincent smiled, a genuine smile that Tseng was certain he had never seen before. It brought a softness to his features, made him shine.

 

“You can say that again.”

 

“What say I get Rufus to throw me in as part of the bargain?” Tseng murmured in a low voice laden with promise.

 

Vincent laughed, a low rumbling sound. “The answer would still be no.” His smile only broadened at Tseng's slightly affronted look. “This wouldn't be half as much fun if I were allowed to do it.”

 

Tseng chuckled. “You might just be right about that. So what now?” He was genuinely curious as to what was on Vincent's mind.

 

“You go back to Rufus, tell him I told you to go to hell, and when he sends you out again… we'll see who ends up on top.”

 

Tseng grinned. And so the dance didn't end, it merely changed. The rules of engagement were reset, and both looked forward to the next battle, for it promised to be better than the one they had just fought. It was a battle Tseng found himself not caring if he lost.