Woven Ties

Woven Ties

AN: I know this maybe spoils the page, but thank you MyValenwind. I enjoy writing yaoi sex scenes, so yes there will be more. 8-)

//


Sunlight filtered through the dark curtains of the Inn window, awakening the room to a cold but bright morning. Cid awoke to a stinging, dull pain as his mind pushed past the haze of sleep. He groaned gently, but despite the ache in his body he felt extremely comfortable in the soft mattress and duvet. He let himself laze for a few more minutes before cracking open his eyes and glancing to his right. Vincent laid perfectly peaceful, eyes closed. He wasn’t asleep, though; this Cid knew… Somehow. The pilot slid a hand under the man’s head and pressed a morning kiss to the pale temple.

“On second thought,” Cid started groggily, quietly as he withdrew. “Maybe yer shouldn’t stay away more often…” He groaned softly to emphasis his ached meaning. “I hurt like hell…” His hips were bruised and his groin was sore. But after pounding into Vincent the way he had he half expected to hurt more. Still, he would do it all again without a second thought.

Vincent’s head shifted slightly in response. But he said nothing, content to lie there and bask in Cid’s company, enjoying the gentle massage of Cid’s fingers on his scalp. It had been some long months since he’d shared Cid’s bed, and he couldn’t help feeling immensely satisfied. Both he and his Beasts were relaxed and – he hated to admit it – his body and occupants had benefited greatly from the passionate sex. His tensed muscles had been unwound and calmed due to Cid’s ministrations, and some deep part of him knew he’d want another fix very soon in the future. He felt minor bruising along his pelvic region, but it was fading fast, and he was glad he had been asleep through the worst of it.

“Reeve called,” Vincent said huskily, his voice deep and thick. “He wants the rest of the creatures destroyed.”

Cid frowned sleepily, watching the gunman. “He phoned? When?”

Vincent’s crimson eyes slid over to meet Cid’s. “Fifteen minutes ago… It’s nearly noon…”

Cid’s eyebrow rose. “Noon?” He couldn’t believe he’d slept in that long. Even more surprising was that Vincent had slept in that long. Or at least, he had stayed in bed until then. Cid wondered just how long he’d been lying there awake. “Damn, must have been more tired than I thought.”

“You overexerted yourself,” came the reply, a hint of humor underlying the tone.

Cid eyed him. “I can’t wait to do it again,” he said meaningfully, a promising twinkle in his blue eyes. Vincent stared at him, caught in a gaze he couldn’t break. A twinge ran down his spine.

They dressed a few minutes later, indulging in a few stealing kisses as they pulled on their clothes. It seemed true that their time apart had – as Cid had quoted – made the heart grow fonder ‘or some shit like that’. While Vincent kept his simple urges controlled, Cid showed less restraint. A quick grope and a kiss threatened to develop into more, but an interruption stopped them before they went too far. Vincent’s PHS beeped, announcing a message. He checked it and informed Cid that Reeve had sent him news. Apparently a wandering hiker had collided with one of the monsters. He had come out of the scrape alive, but badly injured. Reeve had given him the coordinates. Cid and Vincent finished getting ready.

As they were leaving the Inn, Cid thought of something. “How come Reeve sent you those messages? I’m the one he assigned with the team.”

Vincent didn’t answer immediately. As they crossed the shoveled snow outside the Crystal Inn, the gunman said from behind his red cape collar, “Reeve’s concerned about your injuries. He assumed you’d be recovering … In fact, he told me to make sure you rested.”

The disgruntled feeling gave way to a sudden laugh as Cid caught the irony. “He shouldn’t have sent you then!” After last night’s romp it’s a miracle he wasn’t in worse condition. “…So why’re yer not making sure I’m ‘resting’?”

Vincent glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Would you rest if I asked you to?”

“Not a chance,” Cid answered frankly.

“I didn’t think so. It would be pointless wasting effort to keep you in bed.”

“Ooh, I don’t think it would be a waste…” Cid grinned, swinging his spear casually. “And I don’t think you’d have to use much effort.”

Vincent gave him a look.

//

The snowstorm had subsided since yesterday, but the snow seemed at least a foot deeper. They waded through the cold carpet away from the small village. The warmth they had left was sorely missed as they continued towards the last location where the monsters had been spotted. It was cold, but not nearly as low in temperature as last night. Cid had donned his ripped shirt and jacket, but the coat he now wore was new. Before leaving the village he had bought his new overcoat from one of the small stores. It was heavy and an unflattering brown color, but very warm and comfortable. He barely felt the sting of cold.

They traveled through the snow nearly an hour before they reached the spot where the hiker had been attacked. They knew they’d arrived when they saw the blood stained snow. Cid was looking forward to another round with those monsters, injury or no injury he was still going to kick some ass. With Vincent there it made the mission seem guaranteed to succeed. He had a long rang weapon, but unlike the WRO he knew how to use it, and Cid was confident he and Vincent could take on as many of those damned monsters as they wanted.

“We’ll head east,” Cid said, staring down at the blood drips and inhuman tracks leading away from the site of the scuffle. He dug his spear into the knee-deep snow and used it as a walking stick to help steady him. He looked back at Vincent, wondering if the mysterious man was cold. He wore nothing under that leather – this Cid knew, of course – but the suit itself was thick and heavy. Perhaps it gave Vincent all the protection he needed from the cold…but Cid could think of something else to warm him up…

He realized Vincent had fallen in step beside him, and he was giving Cid a strange, questioning look. The pilot realized he had been fantasizing, and his expression must have looked very silly. He cleared his throat and casually started whistling.

They walked for another hour before their first encounter. Cid had been explaining the basic outline of assembling a small ship – using the Tiny Bronco as an example – trying to pass the eventless walk with a little talk. Vincent listened curiously, though his expression remained neutral. When a mighty howl tore through the air they whirled around, weapons poised and ready.

A few seconds of silence ticked by. Cid eyed the snow bank they had passed, realized they were standing in the valley of two hills. He felt Vincent’s cape flutter gently by his thigh. It was almost peaceful.

An explosion of snow erupted to Vincent’s right, along with a sharp, deafeningly loud roar. Both men leapt away as the beast landed heavily where Vincent had stood, its white fur coated with snow. Its beady black eyes turned to Cid, and he could have sworn he saw its ugly maw twist into a warped smirk.

Vincent was already firing, but the monster jumped from the attack. Before he could pull the trigger again, another creature leapt from the white void, screaming as it flew through the air towards him. He was airborne before it had even landed, and it was dead before it could turn around; its head was an ugly mess, ripped apart by three bullets. He landed on the peak of a high snow bank and turned quickly to find Cid pulling his spear from the corpse of the first beast. The pilot looked at him and gave a thumbs-up.

A distant rumble soon took his attention away. From his high vantage point, Vincent looked down across the hilly surroundings and spotted three more creatures, on a fast intercept course. He planned to meet them halfway.

“Vincent,” Cid called as the red cape disappeared from view. He started running through the deep snow wondering how many beasts Vincent was going to get before him. He knew he shouldn’t turn this into a competition, but he had a score to settle with these things, and the more he bagged the better he’d feel. Figuratively speaking, of course. His body was still aching, and his wound throbbed. When he clambered up the hill he spotted the confrontation about three hundred yards away. He had to stop and marvel for a second. Vincent glided through the air with every leap and jump, as though gravity’s hold on him was weak. Snapping himself out of his daze, Cid half ran, half slid down the mound of snow towards the fight. Roars, growls and howling pierced the air, deafened by the cracks of gunshots. Cid arrived at the scene just in time to see a forth creature explode in a shower of blood and brain matter, narrowly missing his pants. He stopped and stared stubbornly at Vincent, who lowered his gun and met his gaze with a questioning one.

“Yer could have waited for me,” the pilot announced, with a hand on one hip.

Vincent holstered his weapon. “You took too long.” He turned his head and appeared to listen to the silent air. “There’s another creature close by.” He turned and started walking. Cid stared after him with a half roll of his blue eyes. How he would like to have seen the affectionate Vincent in the daytime as well as the night. He’ll have to work on that.

Some minutes later they were confronted with the fifth beast. It stalked them for a few seconds before they realized it was behind them. Luckily, in mid-pounce it took three bullets to its head and crumpled heavily to the floor. Cid, who was the closest, lowered his weapon and turned to face the gunman, a little irritated that he hadn’t let Cid deal with this one.

“Did I do something yer to piss yer off last night?” He asked lightly, starting to walk with Vincent.

He received a quick glance and a few seconds of silence before a reply. “No. Why do you ask?”

“Yer’ve been shooting ‘em dead before I can get a look at them,” Cid explained. “Yer keepin’ a tally card, or what?”

Vincent paused in silence again. He looked forward and continued to walk. “I can dispose of them with little effort…”

Cid made a face. “Well look who’s on his high horse today. Fuck.”

Vincent glanced at him again. “No, I mean… bullets take less strength than spears…”

Cid eyed him before it dawned. “Yer worried about my wound?” He waited for a response but got none. He grinned. “So instead of forcing me to rest, yer gonna make sure I just don’t damn well do anythin’.” Again, he got no answer, so he made one himself. Shooting a hand under the cape and around Vincent’s waist, Cid snagged the man’s body and pulled him in for a proper thank you. Vincent’s lips were cold, even more so than his, but he soon warmed them up. When they parted both men were at least a couple of degrees warmer. Cid took pleasure in the heavy-lidded eyes that looked back at him. The man’s breath steamed the air outside his cape and clung to Cid’s face.

“We should…continue,” Vincent said, with barely hidden reluctance. He pulled himself gently from Cid’s embrace and started walking. Cid followed with a smile, lighting a cigarette as he went. They walked on for fifteen minutes more before Vincent stopped, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cid stopped beside him. They were stood on top of a small hill, and a light screen of snow had begun to fall. A small breeze picked up Vincent’s cape, and dragged away the smoke of Cid’s cigarette.

“I sense something,” Vincent replied. His keen gaze scoped the landscape before focusing on an area to their northeast.

Cid followed his partner towards that vicinity as Vincent lead the way to the anomaly. The walk took them another half hour, and they encountered no more beasts along the way. As they drew nearer to whatever it was, Vincent’s face contorted into a frown. Whatever he sensed was becoming stronger.

They knew they’d reached it when they climbed a small slope and stopped on the edge of a drop. Down below was a fissure in the snow, and from inside came the faintest glow. Lifestream.

“Damn,” Cid breathed as he looked down carefully, crouching for better balance. “It’s close to the surface…That ain’t good. How the hell did this open up?” He glanced up at Vincent, who looked down at him silently, without an answer. Cid had one. “Those tremors,” he recalled. “They must have cracked this fissure open.” He stood and backed, already feeling the strange effects of being so close to the Lifestream. “Let’s get back and report to Reeve.” He turned and started to walk, but paused.

Vincent hadn’t moved. He was staring into the fissure, watching the faint glow from deep in the dark crevice. Something inside him stirred in reaction to the potent energy, and he remembered that Chaos had been born from the Lifestream. Perhaps that was the cause of the strange feeling now running through him. Vincent thought back to the incident that left Cloud comatose from heavy exposure to the Lifestream. He wondered what effect it would have on him. He wasn’t too keen to find out.

Cid stepped up to his partner, watching his face. Vincent’s eyes were dilated. “Vince?” He touched the gunman’s arm.

Vincent looked at him. A blink, and his pupils returned to normal. “Let’s go,” he finally said, joining Cid on the decent down the mound of snow.

//

They arrived back at the village several hours later, discussing the Lifetream and its relation to the monsters. Vincent seemed sure there were no more beasts out there, and Cid wasn’t going to doubt him. The man knew these things. With their job done, they headed to the only café in the village for a warm drink. Cid appreciated the sit down, feeling his wound throbbing again. It was sore and tight from the exertion he’d put his body so soon after acquiring his injury. He ordered a steaming cup of tea for himself and Vincent, then parked himself on a seat in front of a condensed window. Vincent sat himself down opposite, placing his tea on the table.

“Not much signal out here,” Cid mumbled between his cigarette as he flipped open his PHS. He found Reeve’s personal number through his listed contacts and hit the call button. He took a sip of his drink as he held the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing tone.

“Cid,” Reeve’s voice followed the click of his phone. “How are your injuries?”

“Injury,” Cid corrected him, plucking his cigarette from his mouth. “And fine. Me and Vince bagged the rest of them creatures. Mission success and all that shit.”

“That’s good news, I thank you,” Came Reeve’s reply. “ But I asked Vincent to go alone. I was concerned for your injury.”

“Yeah, well, Vince kept my involvement to a minimum,” Cid said, looking up at said man. Vincent met his gaze behind the mug he had brought to his lips. “Basically he did do it alone. But he’s sure there ain’t any more of them things.”

“Excellent. I will negotiate his imbursement with him later, for now I thank you both.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Cid took a puff on his cancer stick. “We found something that you might wanna know about.” He let a pause break the conversation before continuing. “There’s a crack in the earth, a fissure some distance from the hiker’s attack. It’s exposed the Lifestream.”

Reeve’s voice took on a more concerned tone. “The Lifestream? That close to the surface?”

“Yeah,” Cid said, taking his cigarette from his lips. The smoke streamed from his mouth when he spoke. “The Lifestream must have weakened the ground and the tremors cracked it open… Vince is sure the creatures came into contact with the energy, and mutated into what they are…or were.”

“A likely conclusion,” Reeve answered. “I’ll send a team down to seal off that area right away and have it filled in, it’s too dangerous to leave alone.”

“Right. Contact yer later,” Cid bid a farewell and closed his phone. He slipped it back into his pocket and put his cigarette between his lips, taking a long drag. He looked over at his partner as he picked up his tea. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Vincent’s gaze was lowered to the table. He paused before answering. “Those tremors…”

Cid waited patiently for him to continue, but he didn’t, and Cid didn’t prod him. Vincent looked pensive as he gazed into his tea. It was still full. Cid watched him for a few seconds, and then finished his own drink, enjoying the warmth. His injury felt better and the bruising he’d inflicted on himself last night was barely an ache. He knew Vincent’s body would be fully healed by now.

They finished their warm drinks, feeling refreshed and rested after their long trek through the snow, and headed back to the Shera. The crew was all assembled, and most of the WRO team was there. All save for the three who had died.

“Cid,” Vincent called when they had boarded the ship and Cid had made the necessary systems check. Cid turned around. “Take us to Cosmos Canyon before you return to headquarters.”

Cid was rather used to Vincent’s blunt demands. He cocked his head questioningly. “Why there?”

Vincent met his eyes. “I want to know more about the tremors.”

Cid watched him for a second before nodding. “Who better to ask than the planet experts?”

//

The Shera landed outside the rocky lands of the Cosmo area several hours later. Cid instructed the crew to stay on board while he and Vincent descended the ship and traveled over the short distance to Cosmo Canyon. Vincent was silent, as usual, but Cid occasionally broke the peace with a few voiced thoughts. He asked Vincent why they couldn’t just call Nanaki on the PHS, but Vincent felt it was better to ask in person. Cosmo Canyon was the home to many planet experts, not just Nanaki.

“Tremors and earthquakes ain’t unheard of,” Cid said as they approached the long staircase carved into the rock. It led to the gates of the Canyon. “Why’re yer taking an interest in these?”

He didn’t get an answer, because Vincent didn’t have one. He trusted that the gunman sensed things no ordinary human could, but sometimes it was annoying to be kept in the dark.

They entered Cosmo Canyon minutes later, and after word reached his furry ears, Nanaki met them a further fifteen minutes later.

“Cid. Vincent,” Nanaki greeted, a smile on his muzzle. His brilliant red coat shone in the light of the fire torches, which had been lit for the coming dusk. The horizon was a beautiful amber color as the sun set behind the low clouds. “It’s good to see you here. What can I help you with?”

Cid glanced at Vincent, allowing him to lead this conversation. “The tremors in the North,” Vincent said, getting straight to the point.

“Tremors in the North?” Red echoed, looking puzzled. His tone suggested something, and Vincent’s suspicions increased.

“Can you tell us anything about them?”

Red looked thoughtful for a second, and then shook his head. “Not really, not about earthquakes. But it’s funny, usually the people of Cosmo Canyon would know if there was an earthquake anywhere on the planet, and I would have heard about it.” He paused. “I can take you to someone who knows more than I do.”

He turned and led them to the main street, where they ascended the Canyon by a series of steep paths and stairs. Red slowed his pace for his human companions, despite knowing they could have kept up if they needed to. They passed many people as they walked on, meeting less and less as they got higher. The people tipped a friendly nod to Red and his companions, most of them knew by ear who Cid and Vincent were. Avalanche was fairly well known in Cosmo Canyon.

Their journey came to an end as they entered a series of caverns in the rock, carved masterfully into adequate buildings. They stepped into a sub-cavern, which had been transformed into a laboratory, much like Bugenhagen’s – Red’s deceased grandpa – main observation platform. Except this one was underground.

“Midas, I have some friends who wish to speak with you about the planet,” Red announced as he entered. A man sat at the only chair in the lab swiveled around from his curved, cluttered desk to face his guests. He was a mid-thirties man, with short, brown hair that stood up naturally.

Cid walked through the doorway after Red, his blonde hair almost brushing the top of the arch. Behind him, Vincent had to duck to avoid scraping his head. Unfortunately, he didn’t see the small model of a planet hanging down and consequently hit that instead.

Midas, as Red called him, stood in greeting and held out his hand to Cid. “You want to know about the planet, huh?” The man said.

“Not exactly,” Cid shook his hand and then shoved both of his into his pocket. “We wanna know about the tremors that happened in the North.”

“Tremors?” Midas asked, glancing at Vincent. He studied the man’s face as though unsure what he was seeing, and Cid noticed he didn’t hold out his hand for a shake.

“A few weeks ago,” Vincent confirmed. “They shook the North and opened a fissure over a thread of Lifestream.” He paused, his crimson eyes glinting strangely. Everyone was fixated. “I doubt they were earthquakes…”

Midas frowned. “You have right to doubt. The North does not run along any fault lines.”

Cid raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“A fault line is a fracture in the planets tectonic plates,” Midas explained to him. “When these move it creates energy – which usually results in an earthquake. Or, in the worst event, a volcanic eruption.” Midas sat back in his seat. “Luckily we haven’t witnessed either of these in a long time, since the Sephiroth incident.”

“Well we have,” Cid said, hands on hips impatiently. He never liked standing still too long.

Midas shook his head. “If the plates created an earthquake, Cosmo Canyon would have felt it – in fact the most of the West would have felt it. It’s possible for the North to suffer minor tremors in the aftermath, but for it to be the only continent to be affected means that it wasn’t a natural disaster.” He looked from Vincent to Cid. “It was probably a tremor caused by bomb or something man made.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed, and Cid tilted his head. “No one in the North heard anythin’ before the tremors. Couldn’t have been a bomb. Somethin’ powerful enough to blow open the earth would be loud enough to hear in Bone Village.”

Midas opened his palms in a lost gesture. “I don’t know what else. But I do know it couldn’t have been an earthquake.”

//

The Shera glided gracefully through the clouds on a decent to the town below. The night was bright thanks to the full moon shining from a frame of clouds. The airship touched down in a clear area near the launch site of the Shina 26 Rocket that had long since been launched into space. Cid remembered it like it was yesterday. His current ship, as maneuverable as she was ancient, whined a beautiful pitch as her engines settled down upon landing. The hatch opened and two figures walked down. Vincent’s boots clinked as he descended with Cid.

It had been nearly two days since they had left Cosmo Canyon and headed back to the WRO headquarters. They had met Reeve some hours after landing. It had been late, and none of the men wanted to stay awake longer. They had retreated for the night, and in the morning Cid had convinced Vincent to return with him to Rocket Town.

“Yer just gonna take off around the world again,” Cid had accused. “Not to sound harsh, but yer ain’t got a home to go to… Stay with me…”

Vincent had given him his answer later that day.

Now, their clothing fluttered violently as the Shera took off rapidly into the night sky, rising high before altering direction and gliding away. Cid watched her until she disappeared from sight, then shouldered his bag and turned to his house. He gazed upon it for a couple of seconds before making his way towards it, with the gunslinger in tow.

The house was unlocked, as always, when they entered. Cid told Vincent Shera would probably already be in bed, so they were quiet as they made their way through the kitchen. It was dark, so Cid groped blindly for the wall, which led him to the staircase. Vincent watched, amused. His eyesight was considerably superior, especially in the dark. He could see quite well. He followed the blonde up the stairs to the landing, and then to Cid’s bedroom, where he pulled in Vincent, shut the door and turned his light on.

“Ah, shit,” he cursed as they both flinched from the bright glare of the light. Cid turned it off and instead switched his nightstand lamp on. It was much dimmer. Cid proceeded to throw his bag over into a corner and then began to rummage through his chest of drawers.

Vincent watched silently. “I don’t get my own room?” He said in a mildly witty tone.

Cid turned to look at him from over his shoulder. “Nope.” He closed his drawers and tossed a pair of red shorts to Vincent. “Yer sleep with me. I might wanna cop a feel in the night.” He eyed the gunman with a twinkle of mirth and an itching smile.

Some minutes later found both men in bed, settling comfortably beside each other. Vincent had undressed and donned Cid’s shorts at the man’s request. He usually slept in his leather, or naked if his garments had been dirtied. He owned no other clothing. As much as Cid wanted to sleep with a naked gunman, he knew Vincent was still sometimes diffident thanks to his socially withdrawn nature.

“So how long are yer planning to stay?” Cid asked, knowing Vincent and his up-and-disappear ways. Despite having asked Vincent to stay, the man hadn’t said how long he would remain.

“…I haven’t decided,” Vincent played along; his eyes smirked from the corners as he glanced slyly at Cid.

Cid shifted in the bed. “Just let me know this time when yer decide to take off.”

Vincent felt him settle against him, felt his hand find it’s way to his belly where it lay comfortably; cooler than his own skin. The contact soothed him. He didn’t answer, but in the silence he thought about his natural desire to be constantly on the move, and how it was slowly being replaced with the desire for companionship…

//

Shera was the first person to rise in the Highwind house the following morning. She dressed and made her way to the kitchen for a refreshing cup of caffeine, and seated herself at the table while she drank it. A faint noise caught her ears and she stopped to listen closely. It was a sound just too quite to comprehend, but it was undoubtedly coming from the house. She put her mug down quietly, slowly, as she strained her ears for the sound again. Shera crept to the stairs and craned her neck. It had come from upstairs. She climbed the steps carefully, trying not to make a sound, and stepped onto the landing. She still couldn’t place the sound, but it had definitely come from in the house. Shera trod silently towards the first door, grabbed the handle and pushed it open.

“Oh!” She drew back, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Sorry, Captain!” She slammed the door closed.

Cid looked over at the door, halfway in the action of climbing over a sleeping Vincent. He looked down at the man underneath him, understanding what Shera must have seen. He shrugged carelessly and continued off the bed to retrieve his pants. He flicked the sheets back over Vincent’s sound form and, scratching his shoulder, trudged his way to the bathroom. He returned a minute later, toweling his face dry, to find Vincent awake, sat on the edge of the bed.

“Sleep well?” Cid asked, slinging the towel around his shoulders as he approached the bed.

Crimson eyes rose to his in answer, and the barest of smiles was given. It was, by Vincent’s standards, a solid response. It prompted a smile from Cid, who moved towards him stealthily. Vincent’s wordless answers gave him an itching…one that couldn’t be scratched without some form of physical – most often sexual – contact. Cid bent down and close, kissing Vincent as he forced him gently onto his back and knelt steadily above him. Vincent kissed back softly with such a manner it had Cid aching.

“One wake up call,” Cid breathed against Vincent’s lips, “comin’ up.”

He slid an arm under the man’s thighs and hoisted him roughly onto the bed more as his mouth kept Vincent’s occupied. Let’s give Shera somethin’ to really blush about. His one hand roamed boldly along the smooth legs beneath him, supporting his weight on the other elbow. He hutched one of the long legs up into a bent position and, now he had better access, slid the hand up into the shorts leg to Vincent’s backside. He reveled the shape before letting his hand wander back up to the lower thigh.

Vincent ‘hmm’ed his satisfaction, raising one hand to cup the back of Cid’s neck. His claw lay safely out of contact as he bent his other knee. Cid knelt in-between them, maintaining the kiss as his wandering hand ran up over the material of the red shorts Vincent was wearing, and started stroking the man’s flat stomach, mapping the pale body with his touch.

Touch. Cid had come to realize that Vincent enjoyed the feel of his hands soothing his body, which was still surprising even now. Cid remembered a time when Vincent recoiled from physical contact, when he had looked disgusted and repelled by it. Maybe, Cid had wondered, Vincent had been deprived of touch and affection for so long his body had begun to crave it. In response to this, Vincent had rebelled against his feelings and denied all contact. Of course, Cid realized that Vincent was a torture victim. For Hojo to do what he did would have involved all manner of contact – some of which Cid dreaded to imagine. After years under violation and pain, the mind would have developed many barriers and issues. Cid had broken past them; he had pushed away and soothed those fears and instincts somehow, and he alone was permitted to touch Vincent, allowed to do intimate things that people took for granted. Cid would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of this achievement, but he was much prouder of Vincent for overcoming this obstacle. If their positions were reversed, Cid didn’t know if he’d have the same strength to fight a mind of such pain. Of course, Vincent was a stubborn man, and despite his difficulties, he never showed them. It was hard to believe Vincent had been put through more horrors than anyone could imagine. His strong façade masked any pain he still felt.

Cid chased away his thoughts and concentrated on his actions. Vincent’s lips had broken free and were ghosting over the ticklish skin under his jawbone. His warm breath trailed over his skin and sent fire through his veins. Cid hovered above the gunman, allowing Vincent to kiss the delicate skin on his throat. The legs on either side of Cid pressed into him and tightened comfortably. To Cid it was the sign to take things further. His chin bumped Vincent’s forehead as he looked down, meeting the man’s blood-red gaze, watching his soul as he brought his free hand to the shorts Vincent wore. He hooked a finger inside the waistband and slowly tugged them down. He enjoyed the look in Vincent’s eyes as he bore him naked. It was strong, barely different to his usual expression, but it was hazed with arousal and completely decided. Cid captured his lips as he inched the garment from the gunman’s hips. He loved how the man let him have his way, indifferent to who leads, as long as they did.

Vincent’s body stiffened slightly and he froze. Cid paused. “…Shera’s awake,” Vincent said.

“So?” Cid nuzzled the man’s neck. He almost asked how Vincent had known, but with hearing like his he had probably heard her downstairs.

Vincent gave him a meaningful stare. It was hard to misinterpret that look. Cid sighed and hung his head. Vincent watched him, ignoring his protesting body at the loss of those touches. But he knew if they continued, Shera – and quite possibly the neighbors – would hear a lot more than they bargained for.

Cid exhaled again, raised his head and stole a kiss before climbing off the bed towards his chest of drawers. He found his cigarette pack and slipped one between his lips as Vincent sat up on the bed and watched him keenly, studying the pilot’s muscular back. A cigarette was in order for Cid, to quench the itching that hadn’t been scratched properly. He lit the stick and took a long, savoring inhale, listening to the sounds of Vincent getting dressed. He was startled when, a few minutes later, a hand plucked the cigarette from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t smoke indoors.” Vincent crushed the offending stick in the only ashtray and offered a challenging gaze, mischievously, daring Cid to complain. He was fully dressed.

Cid met his eyes, turning to face him straight on. They stared each other down for a long couple of seconds before a wide grin cracked Cid’s features and he shoved the gunman back hard. Vincent bumped into the bed and fell back, sprawled against the sheets once more with Cid pushing him down. They kissed, long and deep, letting their tongue twist around each other. Cid abruptly broke their contact and pulled away. He found and tugged his shirt on and retrieved the towel from the floor, then made his way to the door. Vincent, sat upright on the bed, watched from his shoulder. Cid cast a glance back at him.

“Tonight. Shera or no Shera,” he promised with a quirky grin. He opened the door and disappeared

Shera almost dropped the kettle when Cid appeared behind her. Having turned from the sink, she almost backed into it. She hadn’t been expecting either of them down for a long time…

“Captain!” She started, clutching her heart. “You startled me. Welcome home.”

Cid reached past her for the milk carton she’d left on the side. “Yeah – how’s the work comin’ on with the new Peace 37 parts?” Cid asked, setting the milk down on the table.

“Oh, they’re giving me a hard time,” Shera said, watching Cid move to the cupboard that held the cereals. “Tricky little parts. Where did you get them?”

“Old friend salvaged them,” Cid said vaguely. He made himself some milky breakfast and sat down to eat it. He was starving.

Shera nodded in polite reply, and looked up as Vincent walked into the kitchen, fully dressed. “Morning, Vincent,” she greeted kindly. Whatever they had been doing this morning they had done it fast. Perhaps Cid had set a new record.

Vincent tipped his chin to her in response, meeting her polite reply. He eyed Cid at the table, who in turn gave him a grin. The promise he had made still lingered between them. Vincent slowly made his way to a seat, feeling a little awkward stood by the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you again, Vincent,” Shera said, pulling out a bowl for him. “Will you be staying long?”

Vincent raised his crimson gaze to her, considering his answer. “As long as my welcome stands,” he answered.

Charmed by his actual lack of charm, Shera smiled. “You’re welcome for as long as you can put up with the Captain.”

Cid began to reply to that comment, but his mouth was full and his words were an incomprehensible jumble of sounds. He shook his head and stopped trying to speak. Shera smiled in amusement and made herself busy with cleaning the sink.

“By the way, Captain,” she said suddenly a minute later. “I’d like to bring someone over sometime, if that’s alright…”

Cid swallowed this time before opening his mouth. “Bring who you like over, I don’t give a damn.”

Quite used to his lack of tact, Shera continued. “He’s actually a great admirer of Avalanche… He’d love to meet you both.”

Cid looked up from his bowl as Vincent glanced at her, too. “Who is he?” Cid asked. His question surprised them both, as they had been expecting some loud, disinterested wave-off about how he wasn’t about to let Shera bring any raving fans into the house.

Shera cleared her throat and avoided their gazes. “His name is Marty Hills…He’s my…boyrfriend.”

Cid looked a little surprised. “Huh. Don’t know him. Where’d you meet him?”

“Here, actually. Remember the Mansons over on Shelly Road? When they died they had no family to give the house away to, so it went up for sale. Marty bought it a few weeks back…” Shera smiled fondly at a memory. “I met him in town. We got quiet close quickly.”

Cid watched her, a look of vague interest on his face. “Well… s’long as he ain’t the autograph-signing kind. Fine.”

Shera beamed. A year or so ago Cid would have taken no interest in her affairs. But somehow he had changed, if only a little in some respects. She knew why. Though they never made a point to express it in front of her, Shera knew Cid and Vincent were together – as wild as that seemed. But they balanced each other out, and somehow the pair of mismatched men had become too deeply involved to be anything other than a couple. Lovers. Though she didn’t know Vincent that well, she had no doubt that he had changed a little due to their relationship, as well. It was quite remarkable how two completely different people could attract each other so strongly. She saw it in their eyes.

“By the way, Shera,” Cid said, pulling her attention away from her thoughts. “Put your ear plugs in tonight.” He twitched his eyebrows suggestively as Vincent glared in – dare she say – embarrassment. It was good to have them both back.