Woven Ties

Woven Ties

AN: Sorry for no chapter on Friday.

//


It was two days later when he received the phone call from Reeve. True to his personal promise Vincent had stayed within or around the Junon area. He was not accustomed to sitting and waiting for long periods, even though he had been trained and was fully capable, so he had taken a long walk to ease the energy stirring in his limbs. It was on his journey back from the wilds when his phone rang. Reeve had informed him that the doctors had administered a working antidote. Cid and the WRO were on their way to a full recovery. Vincent was glad, and Reeve could hear the relief in his voice. Curious.

“Can they receive visitors?” Vincent asked.

“Yes. In fact I hear Cid has requested to be released,” Reeve answered. “He wishes to recover in the comfort of his own home. And the doctors believe this is a good idea now the worst of the danger has passed.”

Vincent couldn’t deny his excitement, even if it irritated him to be feeling such things. He informed Reeve he was on his way to the hospital, and Reeve told him he would tell Tifa and Barret, then they ended the call and Vincent quickened his pace a touch. He was about an hour away from Junon, it would take him just over that to reach the hospital, but time was no obstacle, and he was entering Junon before he knew it.

The hospital reception staff was glad to know it would be his last visit. Or perhaps it was disappointment, Vincent couldn’t actually tell. For the final time, he hoped, Vincent asked to see Cid Highwind, and he was again sent an escort to follow. He stepped in behind the man, ignoring everything as they passed through the hospital. Finally, they came to a different wing than the last one Cid had been bedded in. As they passed the individual rooms, Vincent noticed three of them contained a man each. No doubt the WRO soldiers that survived the mission with Cid. His escort gestured him into a room.

“Vincent,” Tifa greeted as she turned to welcome the new visitor. Opposite her stood Barret, who flashed him a grin. Between them, sat on the edge of the bed pulling his socks on was Cid. “Come on in.”

He realized he had stopped in the middle of the doorway. The escort had disappeared. The room’s inhabitants were watching him as he crossed the threshold, raising his crimson gaze to meet Cid’s blue ones. It had only been a few days since he had last seen them, but a flutter twanged his chest as they looked into him.

“Cid…” Vincent said as he stopped at the foot of the bed. “You look well.”

A very deliberate gaze was drawn up and down his body, and he realized Cid was looking at the clothing he wore. A sniggered was issued into the silence that followed, and Vincent looked at him questioningly.

“Babe, we’ll have to get yer some new boots,” Cid grinned.

Vincent didn’t bothering looking at his footwear. He was aware that his pointed boots did not match the clothing he wore, but he wasn’t going for a fashion statement. He ignored Barret’s laugh, but Tifa’s curious glance to Cid caught his eye.

“These are fine, old man,” Vincent replied, dipping his chin as he smiled at his retaliation. It was an old reflex even though he didn’t have his cape collar to hide behind.

Cid gaped at him. “Yer been talking to that damn brat, haven’t you?” Vincent blinked and looked at him: his answer. Cid smiled and gestured for him to come closer. He was met with a hesitant pause before Vincent complied, moving past Tifa. “You two just turn around for a second, will yer?” He asked casually. Tifa and Barret frowned, but they did as he instructed.

Anticipating his reason for this Vincent drew away, but Cid grabbed his arm and with careful strength pulled him down. They kissed. It was a warm but hungry kiss; one-sided at first before Vincent relaxed into it, unable to pull away. It re-ignited the burning desires inside them that had been starved the past few days, and it took all their power to pull away, leaving an audible sound from the broken contact.

“Better than any cigarette,” Cid said, smiling. He released Vincent’s arm and began pulling on his boots. “Yer can turn back, now,” he called to the others, completely nonchalant.

“Should I?” Barret said, his back to them still. However he did turn around, glancing from one man to the other. It was quite obvious what had occurred, but it didn’t look like Cid gave a damn. Vincent on the other hand…

“I’m starving,” Cid said, tying up his laces, pulling them taut before looping and knotting them. He lowered his knee. “I’ve lived on this hospital shit for the past three days and let me tell yer, it ain’t nice.”

Cid was discharged from the hospital barely an hour later. Dr Bound had managed to meet them, giving instructions for Cid to take it easy for the next week. He was amazed by the recovery rate, and Cid simply stated he was an amazing man. The doctor shook hands and wished Cid all the best. The four friends left the hospital together, stepping out to a sunny day. Their first course of action was to supply Cid with food – and fast. They found a fastfood store where Cid bought his first dinner of three days, and answered his friends’ questions in-between mouthfuls. They wanted to know how ill he had gotten, how he should take it easy even though he wouldn’t, and whether he was returning to Edge with them or Rocket Town.

“Home,” Cid answered, swallowing a mouthful of his greasy food. “Where the tea is.”

After retrieving Vincent’s belongings – which were only his cape and shredded leather – from the Inn, the four Avalanche members walked to the airport, where the Tiny Broncho II was still grounded. Tifa and Barret would barter passage to Edge while Cid and Vincent would take the plane back to Rocket Town.

“We’ll come by and visit soon,” Tifa promised, letting go of Cid’s hand which she had took hold of affectionately. “See how you’re recovering.”

“Making sure ya ain’t over doing it,” Barret said with a smirk. Cid folded his arms and laughed sarcastically.

“Vincent will take care of that,” Tifa said with a smile, her eyes twinkling playfully with the recent discovery. Said man stared.

Within a few minutes they said their goodbyes, and the Tiny Broncho II ascended into the sky finally. Her wings sliced through the air as she altered direction and sped away and out of view, leaving Junon and its events behind. Flying the plane back was the only action Cid was going to get in the next few days, so he savored the flight and ran his hands over the controls lovingly. He wished the plane wasn’t so small or the journey so long, as he wanted nothing more than to touch the man in the seat behind him. He wanted to ravage him, kiss him and make love to him – all the things he dreamed of while he had been in the hospital.

The journey had been both endless and short when it came to an end nearly two hours later. Rocket Town grew on the horizon, and a few minutes later Cid had settled her down nicely in his own back lawn. He hopped down, stretching out his stiff body as Vincent climbed out after.

“Aaah, it’s good to he home,” Cid commented. He glanced back at Vincent, and saw the tattered remains of his leather suit. “Yer’ll have to tell me what happened when we get sat down.”

Shera was overjoyed to see the captain well and returned home. Cid had contacted her early into his admittance to the hospital and vaguely told her he was being kept in Junon for whoever knew how long for whoever knew what reason. Needless to say she had plenty of questions, but first – and Cid was adamant about this – he wanted some tea and a sit down, gesturing for Vincent to do the same. More than happy to help the newly recovered, Shera bustled about and the water was soon on the boil.

“So?” She asked, setting a steaming cup of tea in front of Cid before moving to give Vincent his. She retrieved her own and sat down on the pilot’s other side. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Cid took a long, savoring drink of his beverage before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Came down with something,” he shrugged. “Hospital sorted me out.” He proceeded to take another gulp.

Shera looked across at Vincent, her eyebrows raised, searching for a less trivial explanation.

“His encounter with a breed of dangerous creatures in the North left him infected with a toxin,” Vincent explained clearly, lowering his drink as Cid’s blue eyes found his. “The hospital had to concoct an antidote while we were there.”

Shera placed a hand to her chest. “Captain – I’m so glad you’re alright. I wish you had told me, I could have visited.”

Cid shook his head. “They wouldn’t even let Vince see me.”

There was a pause in the kitchen until Shera spoke again. “Well, you’re fine now, right?” She smiled.

He returned it casually. “Sure, Shera.”

Vincent smiled himself as he raised the mug to his lips. However he was a millimeter away from touching his drink when Shera noticed his clothing.

“Are those Cid’s?” She asked, staring at his outfit. “Well, don’t you look handsome in regular clothes?” She laughed.

Cid braced an elbow in the table and looked forwardly at his partner. “Yeah, don’t he?” He said rhetorically, giving a very meaningful grin. It grew as he watched Vincent ignore them both and busy himself with his drink.

Shera stood. “I’ll prepare dinner in an hour, Captain. If there’s anything you need just let me know. You should take it easy for a few days, okay?”

“Damnit woman, I ain’t old,” Cid growled lightly.

“But you are recovering,” she countered, smiling as she turned and walked out of the room to finish her jobs, leaving Cid and Vincent alone in the kitchen. Perhaps she had done that intentionally…

Cid eyed the door she had disappeared through before directing his gaze to Vincent. “You gonna tell me what happened?” He asked, referring to the unfortunate condition that his leather suit was in. It was currently folded on the back on Vincent’s chair.

The gunman glanced at him, his crimson eyes hesitant to explain that he had allowed himself to be beaten up by a group of monsters. He was saved the task of answering when Cid leant abruptly from his seat, jerked Vincent close by his shirt and kissed him deeply. It was a demanding kiss, one that promised of more to come. Vincent was disappointed when Cid parted from him, but it was short lived.

“If yer ain’t gonna talk, then we’d better put yer body to better use,” he smirked, already leaning in slowly for a second kiss.

Excitement flared inside him as Vincent allowed his lips to be captured once more. He pushed into the kiss, opening his mouth to deepen their contact. Cid nibbled his lip before sucking on it, winding a hand through Vincent’s hair to cup the back of his head, ensuring they couldn’t part. He pulled Vincent to him, almost dragging him from his seat, but the gunman caught his weight with the table, unwilling to break their kiss to upright himself. They finally parted when their need for air was too great.

“Upstairs,” Cid breathed, his breath hot and moist. “Now.”

Vincent swallowed, dampening his throat. His heart was beginning to quicken with arousal as he shared the silent agreement. They rushed to their feet, tangling themselves in each other’s embraces as they moved to the stairs. Cid slammed him against the wall barely three steps up and kissed him passionately, hands roaming wildly over the man’s slim body. Then he pulled away and dragged his partner the rest of the way and into his room, where he only just managed to shut the door before Vincent was pressing his form against Cid’s, seeking his lips. There were no words as they stumbled to the bed and fell onto its made sheets. Cid shifted their positions, guiding Vincent onto his back as he rolled onto his front, never once breaking their kiss. He sought Vincent’s tongue as his hand crept its way to the gunman’s shirt. He began picking at the buttons, slowly undoing them one by one as he distracted Vincent’s mind with his continuous kisses. The shirt slipped loose and Cid’s triumphant hand ran soothingly along the toned stomach, cupping his side before riding back and stroking his belly tenderly.

Vincent pressed harder into the kiss, encouragingly. The pilot’s touches were lighting a powerful fire inside him, and he was already hard. He shifted his hips as Cid’s sensual stroking brought a twisting pleasure inside, trying to alleviate the strong sensations that were growing too quickly for him to control. A groan issued from his throat, swallowed by Cid’s greedy mouth. His shirt was pushed open fully, exposing his ivory skin to the air. Cid’s hand found a nipple, and Vincent grunted quietly as the fingers began fondling, perking it to attention. Vincent nipped Cid’s top lip in his own show of defiance, but the pilot counteracted his action with his own, restraining Vincent’s bottom lip with his teeth as he sucked on the reddening flesh and ran his tongue over the smooth skin. He released it only to reattach his mouth, claiming Vincent with his show of dominance. To thwart any more acts of retaliation, Cid shoved his hand into the man’s pants and gripped.

“Ah – ” Vincent gasped, jerking his hips. Cid grinned and he kissed once more, satisfied his supremacy had been established.

Shifting himself higher onto his elbow, the pilot pulled his hand back to the belt and button on Vincent’s – or his – pants. He undid them deftly, followed by the zip, and his fingertips brushed against the fabric of his own underwear. Cid broke away to look down.

“Are they my boxers?” He asked surprised, a grin spreading across his reddened lips. He looked back into the eyes of his lover. “You’re wearing,” he said as he lowered his face centimeters from Vincent’s, “my boxers…” He kissed him deeply, inhaling noisily through his nose. “Damn, that’s just made me so fuckin’ hard, Vince…” As if to provide evidence, he grabbed Vincent’s good hand and guided it to his own confined erection. “See what yer do to me?” He watched Vincent’s reaction before bending his head again and lapped at the man’s neck, his stubble brushing the smooth skin. He panted against Vincent’s jaw. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about yer…all while I was in the hospital…” He began, letting his hand squeeze the man’s arousal. “I wanted nothin’ more than to be with you…inside you…”

Vincent gave a squirm as a bolt of electric pleasure shot through his body. Cid’s words were like an incantation, setting off an explosion of lust inside him that couldn’t be satisfied until they had spent every ounce of their energy making love to each other. He captured Cid’s lips as his hand, still touching his partner’s erection, began to stroke and caress the bulge. Cid moaned into his mouth, finding his own hand returning to massage Vincent’s hips and torso. He loved the feel of the gunman’s body; it was so beautifully sculpted, boasting both masculine and feminine curves and angles that just drove Cid mad with desire. If he didn’t know better he would have said it was Hojo’s perverted experiments that molded Vincent’s body into the work of art it was.

A grunt escaped him at his lover’s talented hand. His fly had been unzipped and his button had been undone while it was his mind this time that had been distracted. He grinned into their kiss and placed a knee in-between Vincent’s long, slender legs, parting them as he hovered over him. With both hands now free, able to hold his weight aloft with his back muscles, he raked his fingertips teasingly down the length of Vincent’s body, bumping over his hips to the open pants and boxers – which he ripped forcefully from Vincent’s pelvis and down his legs. He threw them away as he watched those glazed crimson eyes, taking off his own shirt and pants. Completely naked, he urged Vincent from his last piece of clothing, and tossed that shirt on the floor, too. Before it had even settled on the carpet, Cid was pressing his hot body down on Vincent’s, pinning him to the bed as he began shifting his hips in a repetitive motion.

Vincent groaned as his body moved back in reaction, undulating against Cid’s groin. Their erections ground together slowly. He was vaguely aware of Cid reaching to the nightstand beside his head and pulling out the bottle of lubricant they used. In his position Vincent couldn’t do much, but he was content to let Cid do the work. The pilot’s words echoed in his mind, and a strong shudder of excitement coursed through him at the thought of Cid inside him. When had he become so sexually obsessed?

His mind was broken from his thoughts as Cid’s lips pressed into his own, seeking the moist heat of his mouth. A second later a hand curved around his buttock and a slicked finger prodded his entrance. He sucked in a pant as he relaxed his body, but the finger circled the ring of muscle teasingly. Vincent grunted in frustration, and surprisingly it was all the convincing Cid needed. He pushed the single digit inside the gunman’s hot body, wriggling his finger to entice a few more noises from Vincent, who delivered accordingly. A second finger joined quickly, loosening him up before a third followed, thrusting in and out of him. He moaned, unable to hold it back as Cid’s fingers slid inside steadily, brushing that bundle of nerves so faintly that he jerked his hips in sexual frustration, trying to embed himself on them further so they could reach that amazing spot.

“Nn, Cid…” he moaned huskily. He swallowed and panted against Cid’s loving kisses.

Knowing when enough was enough, and unable to hold back any longer, Cid took out his fingers and proceeded to coat his hard length from head to hilt. He saw Vincent watching and crawled back over him, delivering a stealing kiss before he pushed his hands under the man’s body and lifted him up from his position. He pulled him as he turned them around, leaning back against the headboard and bracing his knees. His erection stood proudly, swollen and large, dripping pre-come.

“Ride me,” Cid rasped into Vincent’s ear as he coaxed him closer. He could see the lust glazing in those beautiful eyes, but there was a pause among it. Vincent wasn’t used to starting in different positions, a fact Cid was soon going to help him overcome. He held the man’s pale hand and claw as Vincent slowly climbed over him, his face flushed with more than just heat. He hovered for a second, his eyes locked onto Cid’s for reassurance, and felt the tip of Cid’s arousal jutting in-between his buttocks. Excitement blazed anew. Cid’s hands cupped his slender waist and guided him down onto his thick length. Vincent stretched up his chin as he slowly sank onto Cid’s engorged erection, feeling every inch of it slide further and further into his body until he was sat fixedly on Cid’s pelvis, the length fully embedded inside him, throbbing and hard. He panted, closing his eyes as he let his body adjust to the huge size. The pain was tame, barely noticeable at all, and a few seconds later he opened his crimson eyes and looked down to find Cid watching him intensely, the love in his eyes was fierce.

“Goddamn beautiful…” Cid breathed. He placed a soft kiss on the man’s chest, sliding his arms around Vincent’s waist as he savored the sheer heat of the body around him. He pressed his face into the warm skin between Vincent’s pectoral muscles and gently thrust up his hips. Vincent grunted, clenching his inner muscles and eliciting a moan from Cid. The pilot gave another push, a gentle, nudging action that brought them both a soft, sweet pleasure. He continued slowly and felt Vincent bumping back, swaying his hips on the length inside him as he leant forward and braced his forearms against the wall and headboard. He lowered his head; his hair cascaded over his shoulders and fell around Cid’s face. The pilot stretched up and ensnared Vincent’s lips in a sensual kiss as they made a slow, gentle love to each other.

Cid couldn’t believe how addicted to Vincent he had become. Every night in that hospital he had dreamt of Vincent, either making mad, passionate love to him or touching and caressing him. He wanted nothing more than to see the man in the throes of ecstasy and happiness, and he realized it was now an obsession. He would one day hear Vincent laugh, and perhaps even see him grin.

Their pace remained slow and caring for a time, letting the excess of their energy dwindle away comfortably. Cid pushed upwards in a regular pace as he let his lips wander over the expanse of Vincent’s chest. He sought out the other nipple and swirled his tongue around it, enjoying the breathless groan that rumbled from deep in Vincent’s throat. It vibrated his chest and Cid grinned. He held the small nub hostage between his teeth as he roughed his tongue over and over it. Vincent squirmed at his ministrations, stretching his neck back as he was dealt a gentle buzz of pleasure.

“Mm.”

Cid sucked on the nipple, encouraging more noises from his partner as they rocked together. He paused and shifted on the bed, hutching up his knees for better stability. Then he thrust hard.

Vincent moaned. His body bobbed as Cid drove into him again, upping the pace to something harder and faster. Vincent’s body responded, and he ground down to match the new pace. His movements became faster as he lifted and dropped himself on Cid’s length, riding him wildly. His hair swayed down his shoulders and chest, tickling the pilot’s face.

“Nnn…” Cid breathed, feeling pleasure beyond words swirling inside his navel. He lifted his head to watch Vincent’s, and frowned softly as he noticed something. Then he smiled. Cid brought up his hand and guided Vincent’s stretching face to his own, watching his glowing, yellow eyes. He kissed him gently on the lips and looked back. They faded back to Vincent’s crimson color. Cid stroked his face as Vincent pushed back for another kiss. The gunman was unaware what sometimes happened during their intimacy, but Cid wasn’t worried. He couldn’t explain why Chaos’ eyes shone through. Perhaps it was simply a weakening of Vincent’s transformation control, and being the dominate of the beasts, it was Chaos’ features that surfaced. Whatever the reason, Cid loved it.

The urge to take things harder overpowered the pilot. He slipped his hands around Vincent’s chest, and with a fluid quickness rolled them over in the duvet. He reveled in the gasp that escaped the gunman as he was pressed back down into the softness of the bed, his legs bent high on either side of the pilot, allowing Cid even deeper access in this position.

Vincent’s back arched and he emitted a noise from his throat, adjusting to the further penetration. “Aaah…Cid…” He moaned in pleasure. So deep… Cid was pressed against him so snugly he could smell the sex on him.

The captain started bucking into him smoothly, tenderly, as though letting him get used to it before he pulled out almost completely, kissing away Vincent’s attention as he plunged back in. He was met with a glorious moan merging with his own. He was implanted so far into Vincent the man could have tasted him. He reached a hand between their bodies and placed it on Vincent’s lower belly.

“Can you feel me deep inside you…?” He breathed, pressing kisses against the man’s neck.

Vincent stretched his head back. “Yes…” he whispered, undulating his hips to seek out that mind-numbing pleasure. He found it moments later as his thrust met with Cid’s, striking his prostate so forcefully it sent his mind spinning and his body jerking in response. He groaned as they found a rhythm, the closeness of their bodies gave him a wonderful friction to his own erection. He closed his eyes and panted at their movements, drowning in the sensations washing over him. His body shook with every thrust, and even though their pace was hard enough, he needed more.

As though reading his thoughts, Cid stopped his pistons and pulled back. The warmth of Vincent’s body fell away as he sat on his heels and gripped the man’s hips. Vincent was looking at him through heavy, lust-filled eyes, rotating his hips in an effort to continue the pleasures circling through him. Cid grabbed Vincent’s hips, coiled his pelvis and penetrated him sharply with such force it rendered him momentarily dazed. Vincent cried out and his entire body shook with a spasm, having reacted to the stab on his prostate. Cid grinned and repeated his action, pulling out almost to the head of his penis before slamming back in quickly. He continued with these harsh, rapid thrusts, delighting in the pleasures and the sounds he was forcing from Vincent. They had long since disturbed the duvet, and the sounds they alone were making could have reached two doors away – but they didn’t care. Nothing existed but them.

They were reaching their end. Cid supported himself on one arm as his other dedicated itself to pleasing Vincent. It wrapped around his length once again and brought him double the pleasure. Their skin slapped together, red and raw. Cid released his grip on Vincent’s arousal, grabbed the man’s hot, sweaty form and hoisted him up and back against the headboard, shifting with him closely to remain buried deep inside him. He then grabbed the top of the headboard and drove himself inside Vincent again and again, finding new stability with something to grip onto above Vincent’s head. He pounded into the man, stealing a kiss from his higher position, panting noisily as he slid in and out of his lover in a rapid succession. Vincent’s body jerked from the sheer force of Cid’s thrusts, he was completely lost to the sensations. Cid held his eyes in a lock that was unbreakable as they reached the end of their session. Vincent threw his head back, consequently slamming it against the headboard behind him and arched his back magnificently, pressing his body to Cid’s still thrusting form. The gunman let loose a choked cry as he came, spilling himself onto his own torso.

His clenching body tightened around Cid, and it was all he needed. Shuddering as he gripped the wood enough to turn his knuckles white, Cid ejaculated deep inside Vincent, releasing his essence into the man’s very core. He released the loud cry that had been bubbling in his throat as he gave his hips their last few bucks, riding out the powerful climax, before he calmed and stilled, breathing raggedly.

They said and did nothing as they caught their breath back, lifting their eyes to gaze at each other. Sweat lined Cid’s brow and dampened the bandana around Vincent’s forehead, but for some reason it made them seem even more irresistible to each other. Mutually they closed the gap between them and took a loose, breathless kiss, reinitiating it after parting for air.

Cid unclenched his death grip on the headboard and they both sank to the bed, wrapped in the other’s arms and lips. The messy duvet molded to their bodies.

“Amazin’,” Cid whispered, still catching his breath. He brought up a hand and stroked his knuckles over the gunman’s flushed cheek. “Wouldn’t believe how much I wanted that when I was in the hospital.” He snorted softly. “Always want stuff when yer can’t get to it.”

Vincent smiled softly, watching him through half-mast lids. He felt incredibly sated and content. “Hn.” He chuckled. He reached a hand up and brushed his fingertips over the stubble on Cid’s chin, enjoying the rough feeling. Cid caught his fingers and kissed them. They both shuffled under the duvet even though they were still hot from their lovemaking and settled into a comfortable embrace.

“What…” Vincent began, his voice croaky but curious. “… dream did you have about us?” When Cid frowned he said, “you sent me a message from the hospital…”

Cid’s eyebrows rose in recollection and a grin broke out over his face. “Damn near soiled the hospital bed sheets that night,” he gazed at Vincent. “Damn it was good…” His eyes looked over the gunner’s face as though it was bringing back scenes of the erotic dream. “I’ll tell yer about it later.” He sealed the promise with a kiss and a sly grin.

Vincent eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he shouldn’t have reminded Cid of his dream. But then he remembered his own sexual visions that night in the Inn and it brought a weak tingle to his exhausted body. It had included a hot bath and a lot of spilled water. And bubbles.

Cid shifted out of the bed. “After that sex I need a drink. You want one?”

Vincent looked up. “You should be taking it easy. It was irresponsible of me to let you exhaust yourself so soon after.” He started to rise from the bed. “I will fetch the –”

Cid pushed him back down. “Heh, you might feel irresponsible, but after the pounding I just gave yer ass you need the rest.” He grinned wickedly as he pulled the sheets back up over Vincent before grabbing his boxers and disappearing out of the room. He trod down the stairs, only now feeling the ache on his own body. Hell, it was worth it. He slipped into the kitchen to find Shera washing the vegetables. She glanced at him casually, a perceptive smile forming as she looked back. “Shera, we got any soft drinks?” He asked, unbothered by the rather obvious scene she was aware of. He pulled open a cupboard.

“At the back,” she directed him.

He found a bottle of something fruity and, after sniffing it, deemed it good enough for Vincent’s tastes and poured them both a glass.

“I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy?” Shera asked with that smile.

Cid put the bottle away and looked at her. “Well, now I can.” He grinned, grabbed the two glasses and practically ran back to his bedroom.

Shera shook her head as he disappeared. “It’s a good job the neighbors are away.”

Cid kicked his door closed and as he climbed back into the warm bed handed Vincent a drink. The pilot had barely settled next to the man before he had downed half his glass. It wasn’t surprising how thirsty he was, and even though it shouldn’t, it also surprised him by how tired he felt. His energy was exhausted after the initial adrenaline had ebbed from his veins, but despite this he felt good. Incredibly good, as though he had flushed out all the bad feelings he had from the hospital. He sank lower into the bed once he’d finished his drink and shoved a hand under Vincent’s warm body, pulling him closer.

“Let me know when dinner’s ready,” he mumbled tiredly as he closed his eyes and let his consciousness fall away under the comfortable weight of Vincent and the duvet.

Vincent lowered his half empty drink and watched him, feeling the pilot’s breathing slow to an even pace. He wondered just how ill he had become in the hospital. Cid didn’t like to show weakness, illness or otherwise, but it was obvious he had reached a serious condition if the doctor’s word was true. Had he been close to death? Confined to the bed because he was unable to get up? Vincent had never expected Cid to fall ill to anything like this, or indeed anything at all. The pilot was always so strong, trivial illnesses simply seemed to pose no threat to the almighty Avalanche team. But wish as much as he want, the rest of them weren’t freaks. They didn’t possess a nearly indestructible body and a planetary weapon to chase away their diseases.

Vincent placed his drink on the nightstand and carefully extracted himself from Cid’s arms. As he was climbing out of bed he grunted, pausing in his action. Perhaps Cid had been right when he said it was Vincent who needed the rest. His backside was throbbing and sore, but it was tolerable, and it brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. Their passion had been so intense they had practically caused bodily harm to one another. The gunman continued out of bed at a more careful pace and made his way to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and stepped in, washing away residual sweat and the mess on his stomach. He let the hot water rain down on him, soaking him thoroughly. A completely different heat trickled from his body down his thigh and despite the heat he gave a shiver. It was surprised him, considering how…deep…Cid had been when he… Vincent closed his eyes and fought another shudder. He tilted his head up into the torrent and felt the water stream down his face. He found the pilot’s shampoo and proceeded to cleanse his hair, massaging his scalp. It felt good.

A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and paused a moment to watch the sleeping pilot. Vincent was glad he was finally resting. He found the clothes he had been wearing strewn about the floor and pulled them back on. He would have to get his leather repaired soon, he felt more secure in that. And Cid’s clothes weren’t made for his size and shape. He was dressed and dry, save for his hair, when he descended the stairs to the kitchen. He spotted Shera, but before he could discreetly turn around and walk away she saw him.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” she announced quite normally, though Vincent detected a gleam in her eye that told him she was musing over the racket they had created only minutes ago. He felt uncomfortable in her presence knowing she had heard such an intimate side of him, yet he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he had fallen into bed with Cid. How unlike him.

He gave a slight nod in acknowledgement as he stood there awkwardly, unsure if he should stay and risk a conversation which would undoubtedly fall upon the topic he really didn’t want to share.

Shera watched him from her work at the kitchen countertop. “Is the Captain resting?” She asked, raking some peelings into her hand with the knife she had been using and throwing them into the garbage can. “I’m glad you got him into bed –” Vincent couldn’t help the widening of his eyes “- Oh! No, I mean, I’m glad he’s finally taking it easy,” she quickly corrected, though again, Vincent suspected she had said that on purpose, if the smile she had tried to hide was of any indication. Against his will his cheeks flushed a little. He tried to remember how thick these walls were… Shera wiped her hands on a cloth as the smell of cooking vegetables began to permeate the kitchen. “I suppose I should dish up his meal for later and let the Captain rest. You know how stubborn he is about things. He’ll insist he’s fine.”

Vincent could agree with that. Cid wasn’t one to admit weakness, much like himself. He watched Shera clear up the kitchen for a second before he decided he had nothing to do. “Is there anything I can do?” He offered politely, his deep voice almost quiet, as though reluctant to ask.

The engineer turned to look at him, the cloth in hand. “Yes, thank you, Vincent. You could help me put these away.” She gestured to the pots she had now started to dry. Vincent had recently been considered part of the family more than a guest, so she wasn’t afraid to ask him to help. Besides, he knew the kitchen like his own…If he ever had a kitchen.

Vincent picked up the dried dishes she had just toweled off and stacked them with the rest in the cupboard over the countertop. As he reached for another handle to open his claw caught the woodwork and left a distinct gauge. He blinked and glanced at Shera, who noticed and simply smiled and shook her head. She obviously didn’t mind.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the two. Vincent felt uncomfortable because he was, and trying to hide this fact left him feeling even more awkward. He shifted subtly in his seat, trying to find an even pressure on his backside that didn’t sting as he covered it with the pretense of pulling his chair further in. It had all been worth it, was all he could say to himself. But he couldn’t help hoping that Cid would wake up in some slight discomfort, too…

//