A Year with a Psycho, Vampire and Co.

I truly believe that if we, the human race, were to ever land on another planet, Starbucks would be the first coffee place on the planet and there would be 2 within a block of each other. Also, I don’t know what a Hugo Boss fitting room would look like, so I made one up. ALSO, I took some liberties with Vincent’s background from FF7: no gold arm, no actual demons, and not much story line from the game. Just his background and he’s going to be 57 (but looks 27) in this story (he’s keeping his real age a secret from Irvine). The FF7 world is on the same planet as the FF8 world.

Disclaimer: As much as I would like all these characters in real life, I don’t own them.


Irvine X Vincent


Irvine’s POV

About a month after meeting Vincent and casual flirting in our short encounters, we decided to get a drink together.

**Vivid Memory (present tense)**

Sitting at Starbuck’s in Balamb, we get into a very strange conversation for what one would think is perhaps untrue or just fucked up for a gay and straight man.

“So your ex tried to kill you? And why is that?” I take a sip of my toasty French Vanilla Cappuccino. Hmmm...Nice and warm on a relatively cool day in October, like today.

I visibly see Vincent’s intense red eyes darken at the new topic I just started. We had been talking guns, a nice normal topic.

“Who was she?” Vincent nearly spit his drink at me.

“HIS name was Sephiroth.”

“HE?! You’re gay?” Well shit, maybe my gaydar is broken. I should have seen it though; the long hair, the way he walks, the way he dresses. It’s tough these days to tell whose gay and all because of all the metrosexuals. Apparently I need to recalibrate my gaydar.

“Yes I am. Anyways, he looked like an angel; I could stare at him for hours and not get bored. He had long silver hair that reached the back of his knees. His body was incredibly muscular, which is understandable because he was the world’s top general and swordsman. His eyes were probably what drew me to him in the first place. They glow bright green due to a chemical called mako which had been infused into in blood stream since before he was born. After we broke up for whatever reasons, he went insane when he found out who is ‘real’ mother was and basically massacred tons of people. It was a very strange situation, actually.” He paused for a moment, reminiscing of said man. “It was quite unfortunate really; he was bred to be an elite soldier from birth, he was a science experiment since the day he was conceived. I didn’t pity him though. He could have gotten out if he wanted to. He was strong enough.”

I was absolutely speechless. I’m sure Vincent found my gaping mouth amusing. “Why did you break up?” I manage to say after about five minutes.

Vincent contemplates the reason why he and Sephiroth broke up in the first place while taking a sip of coffee. “He was very dominant and possessive of me. I had little to no freedom. It got to the point where I would try to sneak out and do my job and bring home something for him so he wouldn’t be too mad. But the first time he hit more, or more or less, the first time he held Masamune to my throat, I ended the relationship. I really liked him, but I couldn’t live in that environment anymore. I was always stressed out and I began having little...attacks per se. It’s like I would be in his quarters and he would walk into the room and I wouldn’t be myself anymore; I had virtually created an alternate personality. This personality was more up to Sephiroth’s speed in terms of anger and aggressiveness. I’m a very passive person as you can tell. I went to therapy and I was able to rid myself of the ‘other self’, but Sephiroth never changed. One day, I got fed up with his mad rants, which now I can see as part of his slipping from sanity, and I yelled at him. I’d never done it before. Before I knew it, I was slammed against the wall and his sword at my throat. As soon as he realized what he’d done, he released me and began apologizing, but I was already leaving. I said he could talk to me whenever he becomes sane again.”

Wow. I stare at him with great fascination. How to overcome such trials in life and I’m sure I don’t know half of them.

“He was never himself again. After discovering who his ‘real’ mother was, he snapped. He tried to kill everything that reminded him of a life he could never go back to, including me. I managed to get away but not before he severely damaged my left arm; I have gold plates in it to hold the bone together. The last time I saw him, he was falling into in the Lifestream where he died.”

Well, shit. “How long ago did this happen?”

“About 3 years ago. I worked through the grief and pain for two years in seclusion, until I came upon this job. I figured it would be a nice change. I know that that part of my life cannot be forgotten but I won’t let it rule my life now.”

I can feel them, the tears. They are sitting behind my eyes just waiting for the next heartbreaking moment of the story, but they recede as I realize he’s now done with his story and drink his almost cold coffee. “Do you think having that sort of relationship put you off from being with other men?”

“No, true he was my only homosexual relationship and it turned out bad in the end, but I don’t think I could go back to being with a woman. It wasn’t fulfilling when I did it before Sephiroth and I’m pretty sure it won’t be fulfilling after him.” Vincent shrugs nonchalantly then smirks at me. “What about you? Why aren’t you with anybody? You’re cute enough by far.”

“Why Vincent, are you flirting with me?” I say trying to lighten the mood. I raise an eyebrow at the usually quiet and reserved man.

“Maybe.” Vincent smiles what I think to be seductively and winks at me.

“If you must know, I had a boyfriend about 11 months ago. Luckily he didn’t try to kill me, but he left me for another instructor; he was a student.”

Vincent looks a bit displeased at the fact I dated a student; I feel bad that I’ve now probably hurt his feelings. “I though student-teacher relationships were frowned upon.”

“They are, but we didn’t care. We were in love and stupid. We kept our relationship quiet.” I look at my cold coffee in shame because now I can see the hurt in Vincent’s eyes, those blood red eyes.

“That’s a bit unethical isn’t it?”

“You could say so, but he wasn’t a student of mine and I didn’t know his instructor. I made sure I was not aware of things like that. He was 18 so it wouldn’t be like I was going with jailbait or anything. I was desperate for relief because near the end of the Sorceress War, I was having problems dealing with the stress. So we started seeing each other.”

“So, why did he leave you?”

“I won’t ever know. I tried asking him but he would never tell me. One day, about 4 months after we started seeing each other, I noticed a few of his items gone from my dorm. I tried to ask him where the items had gone, but he basically gave a weak excuse for it. Day by day, more things left. Finally one day, I came home early one day and he had a box packed with the remainder of his item and he was crying. I knew it was coming so I kind of had time to prepare for the end. All he said was ‘I’m sorry’ and left. To this day, all I know is that he started seeing another teacher for about 8 months. I suspect he felt like he couldn’t make me happy.”

“Is he still in Garden?”

“No. About 3 months ago, he was killed on a seed mission. A resistance party attacked one of our jeeps and he was shot by a resistance member. In the end, the resistance party made the mistake of thinking the SeeDs were an opposing resistance party.”

Vincent shakes his head sadly. “That’s horrible”

“Yeah we were all a bit shocked but we all got over it.”

“How long after you broke up did he die?” Vincent skips his drink with his pouty pink lips. Hyne what I would do to lick them, but again I digress.

“About 8 months. We were together for 4 months.”

Vincent nods silently and licks his lips to clean them of any coffee on them.

Then the greatest idea since sliced bread came to me.

“Hey would you like to come with me to get a new pair of pants. My others are little too short. I think I may have grown a little bit. I also need a new pair of shoes because the faculty banquet is coming up pretty soon.”

Vincent cocks his head to the right slightly. “That’s right. That is coming up soon. I need an outfit too. How about we go to the Hugo Boss store in Esthar?”

“I can’t afford that place! Do you always wear Hugo Boss?” He nods and I feel my eyes bulging out of their sockets. No wonder he always looks good; wearing those clothes everyday, especially those pants. Hyne can he wear those pants. For one thing, when he wears all black, he looks like he should be in the Mafia, which I guess the Turks kind of are.

“Most days I wear Hugo.” Standing up, he brushes himself of anything that might have gotten on him. “Ready?”

“Could we stop at GAP or Abercrombie so I can buy clothes?” I stand up and smooth out my clothes. I also push my hair out of my face; I decided to leave it down when he agreed to get a drink with me. On top of that I didn’t were the cowboy hat either.

Vincent smirks just a little at me and it made me nervous. What’s going on in his head?

So we decide to go to Esthar to the big mall. We aren’t in any rush seeing as it was Saturday morning and we had all day to do whatever. So we have more casual conversation where he talked about his life: the Turks, the bitch-of-a-girlfriend Lucrecia, Sephiroth, and the mad scientist Dr. Hojo, who killed Lucrecia. And what an interesting and doomful life he’s had too. The entire trip was great because hearing Vincent’s smooth, deep voice and staring into his scarlet eyes was incredibly relaxing. I don’t think he knows what kind of effect he has on me. A couple of times he asked me if I was ok because apparently my eyes had glazed over and my mouth was drooping a bit. It was sad, really.

When we arrived in Esthar we immediately hopped into a cab and headed straight for the mall. That man gets more gorgeous the more I talk and look at him. Hyne he’s beautiful. I’ve heard the saying that beauty is only skin deep, but I beg to differ. Vincent has a beautiful soul also. He’s one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met and I’ve met 5 all-in-all; Squall, Seifer, Zell, and Laguna. I decided right when we got into the cab that I wanted to be with him THEREFORE I was going to flirt as much as possible, turn on the ol’ Kinneas charm.

On the way to the mall, I tell about my adoptive father, Martine. I managed to touch his forearm and his knee (which was a thrill all in itself); he gasped when I touch the knee, which is good. Maybe that means he likes me. I should only hope.

Well, we get out at Esthar Mall and I pay the cab fare. I don’t know when this happened but Vincent pulled his hair up into a ponytail. How I want to touch it and run my fingers through his silky black hair.

My partner in crime today steps out of the cab behind and stretches. I’ve never seen a hotter stretch in my life. He’s wearing a red v-neck knit sweater, black dress pants, and black dress shoes; his shirt rides up as he stretches upward. I swear I drooled when the tight shirt revealed some of the softest looking skin; I wanted to lick it. BUT, being the man of tactfulness and understanding appropriate public behavior, I decided against the licking.

As we walk towards the store, Vincent speaks up, in a low voice.

“Thank you Irvine. You...seem to understand the trials of my life. I...wanted to thank you for listening. Nobody has cared enough to listen to everything I’ve told you.”

In my head, all I can think is ‘Wow that was kind of random.’ But my mouth says something different.

“You’re welcome. I feel that we are better friends because you seem to be the type of person to share these types of experiences only with people you trust.” I can see the smallest hint of a smile creep onto his face, and what do I do? I fucking blush and then stumble on my next few words. “Thank you f-for trusting me enough to sh-share.” As we approach Hugo Boss, I can still feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I pause in front of the Boss store and turn myself so I’m facing Vincent. “If you need anything, I’ll be here for you.” Sure it sounds like I’m being cheesy and trying to butter him up, but I really do meant it.

Vincent gave a polite mile, and then promptly rolled his eyes. See! It was the cheesiness of my statement. He patted me on the shoulder and heads into the designer’s store. I follow him into the magnificent store. Let me tell you, I felt incredibly underdressed. I’m wearing an orange button-down long sleeved shirt with a large collar that likes to standup and dark boot-cut blue jeans. My biggest dilemma of the day was what shoes to wear; so I settle for black track shoes. In October, you can wear just about anything.

Vincent starts grazing the rack with what looks like very few clothes; I quietly sit on the bench waiting for him. I watch silently as he would pick up a shirt, look at it, and put it down. Same with the pants. That is, until I saw what, in the future, would be the catalyst to the change of our relationship and ultimately our lives. I walk to the clothing rack, my eyes still trained on the item, and pick up a pair of black leather pants. They were soft leather, boot-cut in style, but instead of a button-fly combination, they were closed by a leather cord. I begin to get hard just imagining Vincent in these tight leather pants. I’m almost panting at that wonderful imagine in my head when Vincent’s voice breaks my little fantasy.

“Are you okay?” He places a hand on my shoulder. “You look a bit flushed and slightly dazed.” Then he looks at what I’m holding; he quirks an eyebrow at me. “Let me try those on. They look like they would be comfortable.” I swear to Hyne, that I saw him lick his lips seductively at me. I’m not sure as to how I’m going to make it through this trip with him doing that.

He takes the pants from me as I nod dumbly at him. He requests a fitting room from the salesman who just smiles at my red-eyed friend (?) with a hint of lust in his eyes. Somehow that sparks, within me, a jealously and a fire of passion. I shoot a death glare, which I borrowed from Glare God Squall, at the little fucker who catches my eyes and scrambles to open the fitting room.

“Here you go sir.” Vincent smiles politely at the prick and looks over his shoulder back at me. The look on his face made my heart skip four beats: pure sex, lust, desire, and want. He walks into the fitting room leaving me in a pile of mush.

I manage to wait for approximately 10 seconds before I find myself waiting outside the door to the fitting room.

“How’s it going in there?” I ask in a hush tone through the door.

“Give me a moment and then you can come in and see.” Hyne his voice even drips with sex; it’s husky and deep and it turns me on. Suddenly Vincent opens the door ever so slightly and sticks his hand out, motioning for me to come in. I look around cautiously like I was about to sneak into the girls’ locker room.

I step into the fitting room which is as big as a small bedroom. There is a large mirror on one wall and a black leather loveseat opposite to the mirror. The room itself was exquisite but the sight in front of me was beyond exquisite.

Vincent still wears his long-sleeved shirt, but he has on the dead-sexy, fuck-me leather pants. I can feel my own pants get tight just looking at him. I think he has noticed the bulge, or it could be my alarmingly loud panting because he turns his head and looks at me sidewards.

Had I not been staring at his arse, I might have seen his gorgeous, pink lips move. “How do I look?”

My mouth goes dry and a lot of words run through my mind: great, sexy, gorgeous, and powerful. But no, I settle for the one word that would ultimately change the direction of the earth.

“Fuckable.” I said plainly. Obviously, not my best answer to his question. Alas, it is the truth. Vincent turns slowly to face me; in his rouge eyes, all I can see is a want and desire. My breath catches in my throat.

He licks his lips, tantalizing my sense. “Fuckable, hmm?” He walks towards me with the grace of a panther, hips swaying slightly all while pulling his shirt off. Keep in mind, I haven’t moved from in front of the door. My eyes roam down his body; the smooth skin on his chest, his flat stomach with a noticeable six-pack. I follow the lines of his muscles down his waist, following the V of the pelvis.

The leather pants he is wearing are low rise and sit low, very low, on his sharp hipbones. As he approaches me, I look into his eyes before he grabs my neck and pulls me in to probably one of the hungriest kisses I have ever had.

Our tongues are all over each others’ mouth, exploring with a feral passion. His arms are still wrapped around my neck holding my face to his; it feels like he’s devouring my soul via my mouth. My hand grasp his hips and pull them against mine earning me the pleasure of hearing him moan into my mouth as out clothed arousals rub together.

Somehow, in the heat of things, I manage to create a complete thought and speak. “I want you.” I almost come at his response.

“Then take me.” He grinds his hips against mine before breaking the kiss and begins attacking my neck. His arms slip from around my neck to rest his hands on my chest, pulling at the fabric, trying to get closer. I pull out the tie binding his hair run my fingers through it. Holy shit, this has got to be a wet dream or a very vivid fantasy; at least I think that until he bites my earlobe. I grit my teeth trying to suppress what could be a loud moan; there’s no sense in letting the world know what we’re doing in here. He kisses down my chest, kissing each nipple before licking and nibbling on them; I arch away from the door, craving the contact.

“Vincent.” I hiss as he wanders away from my chest to my stomach. His tongue is doing flips in my navel as I have now thoroughly mussed up his hair. I can’t take his treatment anymore so I pull him up and attack his mouth with the same ferocity as a lion tearing into a fresh kill. I wrap his arms around my neck and pick him up, wrapping his legs around my hips. I, more or less, stumble to the love seat; our arousals are rubbing together and my legs are slowly becoming jelly. I lay the lithe man on it and step back to look at the raven-haired beauty panting heavily.

He. Is. Gorgeous. His hair is splayed around his head in a sort of spider web, his arms resting limply by his sides, eyes half-closed in passion and his legs spread open with quite a bulge between them. At that moment, a wave of raw hunger came over me.

I groan as I begin ravaging his lips once again. He begins unbuttoning my shirt as I’m fumbling with the tie on his pants; I settle myself between his legs.

“Shit, these pants look good on you, but they are a bitch to get off.” Vincent chuckles as he finishes unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off. He then assists me with his sexy, but evil pants. Once we finally divest him of the leather pants, it occurs to me that something wasn’t quite right. I look down and then I place the oddness of the situation. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Vincent, good, straight-laced, sexy, conservative (until today) Vincent was going commando.

“Oh Hyne, help me!” I say under my breath. I kiss him hungrily with a need I have never felt before, and I’ve felt hunger. I virtually attack his neck and throat, nipping and licking, trying to taste him. He squirms against me, gasping as I run my tongue over his Adam’s apple.

“You pants. Off. Now!” He pants breathlessly in my ear, grabbing at my pants and try to undo them. I fumble with the fastener of my pants and he is trying to help; we chuckle at the eagerness that has come over us.

“We should hurry before the prick outside wonders what’s taking so long.” I rub his erection with my hand as I tease a nipple with my tongue, leaving behind a trail of saliva.

He bits his bottom lip to keep from moaning loudly. “AhhhhhHHH!” he quietly screams as I bite his hard nipples. Oh Hyne, his voice is so deep; I can feel every word he says running through my body. His warm hands on my thighs as he pulls my pants off are like heaven; I almost came from those hands.

I perch myself above his lithe body, hands on either side of his head; I begin a slow grind, rubbing our erections together. He bucks a little to gain more friction; but alas I’m a bastard who likes to see others suffer like this. Then I look at his face and begin to appreciate my slightly sadistic side of myself.

His face is the image of pure ecstasy: he’s biting his lip, his brows are furrowing, his eyes are squeezed closed. I cannot get enough of it. I run a hand down his side, feeling the pale smooth flesh and the curvature of his body. My hand sneaks between our bodies and down to his groin, stroking his thick erection until he is bucking into my hand.

Before he’s too far gone, I leave his member and massage his hard-muscled buttocks. The skin itself is smooth but the muscles are unbelievable, and it has the perfect round shape. How can one man be so...perfect?

I bring my hand up to his mouth and present my fingers for him to suck on, thus creating lube for us. He sucks tantalizingly slow on my finger, sending shivers through my body. He smiles around my fingers as he now realizes that they are one of my sensitive spots on me. I pull my fingers from his and massage one into his tight entrance as my other hand is sitting me up so I can see him one again.

I sit back on my heels and watch the raven-haired being in front of me writhe from my ministrations. As I lean down to kiss his stomach and run my nose over his soft flesh, I feel his large hands running through my hair. Carefully I add another finger, scissoring and stretching him, preparing him for what’s to come. I sit up once again, kissing his knee and massaging his thigh, and I slid the third finger in. He becomes like a taunt bow, arched in an almost painful way. Just when I think I can’t get anymore turned on, he proves me wrong and pushes me over my limit.

With al three fingers pumping into him, I create a new goal for myself. I seek out what I like to call The Epitome of Pleasure, also known as the prostate gland. I wiggle my finger in his body until I hear Vincent gasp loudly and buck against my fingers. Found it.

“Irvine! PLEASE”, he all but shouts at me.

“Gladly”, I answer just as breathless as he is. I pull my fingers from his tight channel, to which he whines from what I’m guessing is the empty feeling he’s left with without my fingers being in him.

I pull Vincent’s hips onto my lap and put his legs on either side of me. I then place my throbbing (painful, if I may add) erection at his entrance; spitting on my hand I lube myself for easy sliding. Using his hips as leverage, I slowly push past the ring of muscle and into his searing heat. I feel bad because I can see he’s in pain and I almost stop when a handful of my hair is grabbed by Vincent.

“Do it Irvine. I’m not going to break. Fuck me.” I feel his voice resonate throughout his body and into my cock; I roll my eyes closed and throw my head back at the sensation. Feeling myself self losing control, I grab his hips and swiftly thrust to the hilt in his tight heat, making his grip at my thighs. I hiss partially from the pain of his fingernails digging into my legs, but mostly from his tightness. Fuck me, he feels inconceivably good.

I give a few shallow thrusts until he sort of snarls at me in frustration, and I lose control; an animal lust takes over me, I pull almost all the way out and slam back into him furiously. He yelps in a voice usually reserved for prepubescent 12 year-olds. His voice cracks and it makes me hot. I thrust at a feverishly speed, aiming for his prostate. Each time I hit it, he arches off the sofa, hair sticking to his forehead from this thrashing. I grit my teeth with each thrust as he is meeting me thrust for thrust.

As hot as this position is, my legs go numb quickly and I decide to change it up. I sit him up against my body, chest against chest; him still impaled on my cock, and slowly rotates while standing up. I sit down on the edge of the sofa, him straddling me with his knees on each side of my hips.

I thrust up, catching him off guard, drawing a muted scream from the scarlet-eyed man. Throwing his head back, he thrusts himself down as I thrust up to him. He allows his head to fall forward and rest on my shoulder. I cup his face with my hands and kiss him as I thrust into him harder, riding his prostate.

In all my previous sexcapades, my goal was always how do I get myself off quickest, but this time, it’s different. My goal is now how can I make Vincent feel like this is the best sex ever. I can feel that he’s close to his climax, likewise me, but there’s something missing. I reach my hand between us and begin stroking his now dripping erection, panting for air as I approach my orgasm.

Vincent starts bucking down on me as he is driven towards his orgasm. I can feel his body tightening around my cock, his around squeezing around my neck, and his legs squeezing around my waist. I can feel his cock twitching in my hand. With one last calculated thrust, I nail his prostate, pushing him over the edge into oblivion. He screams my name as his salty essence spills onto our stomachs. With his body seizing around me, I can’t hold back any longer and release myself into him, with a quiet sigh of his name, only something he can hear. I thrust slowly, riding out our orgasms to the very end.

He falls forward onto me, resting his forehead against mine. I can feel his sweet breath spreading across my face as he pants; it smells vaguely of coffee and his own special scent which smells somewhat like chocolate. I roll my head up to capture his lips in a lazy kiss, slowly searching his mouth with my tongue. Breaking the kiss, I embrace him tightly.

“That was...breathtaking”, I finally say after I have gotten control of my breathing once again. Pulling back, I graze my eyes over Vincent’s tired form; he is covered in a thin sheen on sweat and he looks thoroughly fucked. Vincent only grunts his agreement of my statement, before he pulls himself off of me to clean up and get dressed.

“We should do that again. But I have a question: Do you want to be in a relationship with me? I really like you and care for you. I don’t want to be ‘fuck buddies’ or ‘friends with benefits’. Where do you want this to go?” There is something I haven’t thought about since I tried to get together with Selphie. But I decided earlier today what I wanted.

Vincent pulls out a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wipes his stomach clean, and then he walks to me and cleans my stomach of his essence. Standing directly in front of me, he looks into my eyes, our mouths mere inches apart.

“Vincent, I decided earlier today that I want to be with you. I’m fascinated by you, enthralled. Though this isn’t what I expected to happen today, I’m glad it did. My feelings for you have been reassured.” I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his ear. “You’re beautiful.”

“You too.” Vincent looks around the room for his shirt as I pull on my pants. “Well we’re going to have to do that again then.”

“Hell yeah!” We get dressed in a comfortable silence, but the silence is broken by a pair on leather pants.

“What are we going to do with these?” Vincent asks, referring to said pants.

“Obviously we are going to have to buy them. Those hold special memories for me now.” I smile as sexily as I can and slowly walk towards him. “Like your face as you came.” I wrap my arms around his waist and he reciprocates and kisses me on the nose. “These are a collector’s item.” This time I kiss his lips. I can’t seem to let him go then...

*knock* *knock* *knock*

“Excuse me, sir. Are you ok in there? Do you need help?” Obviously, the prick either didn’t see me slip in or forgot I came in here too.

“He’s already been helped”, I say through the door; Vincent turns a bright red knowing that I just gave us away. It’s not like the walls are soundproof.

“Thanks Irvine. Now I won’t be able to shop here again.”

“Yeah you will. The prick is just jealous of what I’ve got.”

“Hmm. Let’s go.” Vincent somehow maneuvers out of my embrace, but doesn’t let go on my hand. He leads me to the door and we walk back into the world, the Hugo Boss store.

Vincent looks at the prick with his crimson eyes, causing the man to become fidgety. “I’d like to buy these pants.” My other half places the leather pants on the counter.

“Y-y-yes sir. And how would you like to pay today?”

“Credit card – Visa.” Vincent pulls a narrow wallet out of his back pocket and hands the plastic to the prick, who is still ogling over Vincent. I stand close behind Vincent, putting my hands on his hips.

With my mouth next to his ear, I whisper, “I want you again”. For further emphasis, I push my growing erection into his backside as he presses back against me. The man hands Vincent back his Visa and the sack containing the pants in a box.

“Thank you and have a nice day.” The prick must be dense because he smiles at Vincent, still trying to flirt with him.

Vincent did nothing more than smile a very creepy smile and say “Thank you” in a deep voice. It almost disturbs me until I realize it’s bordering on desire.

We walk out of the store and head in the general direction of the street so we can hail a cab, all the while sneaking kisses and inconspicuous groping. At one point Vincent whispers in my ear, “I want you so bad”, as he grabs my buttocks and squeezes them; I’m pretty sure I blushed furiously and practically threw myself in front of a cab so it would stop so we could get back to his place.

You know what? We didn’t even make it to the train before we turned into rabbits in heat.

And that, my friends, is how the Valentine-Kinneas relationship started.

Next time I think I’ll tell you about how Squall broke up with Rinoa or maybe how Zell discovered he was gay.