Happy Birthday, Vincent

I wrote this a while ago, after reading the infamous Haruka doujin where Yuffie and Tifa tie Vince up for Cid's birthday. After I read it, I was a bit miffed that A) Cid didn't ask and B) Vince wasn't on top. Since Vincent's birthday was yesterday, I thought 'well, may as well send a gift.' Happy Birthday, Vincent. Reposted because of random deletion.

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"Ooooh, Viiiincent....."

The gunman turned around, raising a brow. Tifa and Yuffie stood behind him, mischievous grins on their faces. "Can I help you ladies?" He asked.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Vincent bit back a groan. Yuffie had wrangled his birth date from him some two months before, and it seemed she hadn't forgotten. He glared at the two, not very happy with being reminded that, technically, he was now fifty-eight years old. They ignored his look, still grinning. "My birthday isn't until tomorrow." He said flatly.

"Nuh uh." Yuffie said. "It's after midnight. So technically, it IS your birthday."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Is there any other reason you stopped me?" He asked coolly.

"Actually, yes." Tifa said as their grins inched wider. "We left a gift for you in your room. A pair of gifts, actually, but you might not even use the second one. Go see!"

Vincent sighed and turned around, striding down the Inn hallway towards his room, Tifa and Yuffie close behind and giggling like schoolgirls. Once he reached his room the girls stopped. "We'll ask you in the morning how you liked it." Yuffie giggled. "And we'll see about getting you a cake or something, how's that? But how old ARE you? So we can get candles."

"This is the twenty-eighth birthday I've been awake for," Vincent said, glaring again at them both. "So let us leave it at that."

"Fine, fine," Tifa said, shooing Yuffie down the hall. "C'mon, let's leave him to his gift." A burst of giggles followed them around the corner. Shaking his head in disgust at their insistence, Vincent unlocked the door and stepped into his room.

The first thing he noticed was the dozen or so candles set along the dresser, the nightstand, and the small table. The second thing he noticed was Cid Highwind, stripped to just his pants and tied to the bedposts by his wrists. His struggles against his bonds had frozen as soon as the door had opened, his blindfolded eyes turned towards Vincent, his lips trying to work through the cloth gag in his mouth. Vincent stared, dumbstruck, only the muffled sounds Cid was making marring the silence. Quickly, Vincent shut the door, crossing the room to the bed. He sat beside the pilot and quickly undid the gag. "Highwind," He asked. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Vince?" Cid asked. "Shit, I don't know. Those two twits just jumped me and trussed me up, saying that I had to lie here and be 'a good little present', whatever in the hell that means. Whatever else they are, those two are stronger than they look. You gonna get me out of here, or what?"

Vincent sat silently for a moment, thinking. Judging by what he was just told, Cid was one of the two presents Tifa was talking about and his groin stirred at the thought of what that implied. Looking around, Vincent spotted the second gift on the nightstand, a small bottle with a ribbon around the center. He picked it up and read the label.

For the comfort and ease of both you and your lover.

Vincent's brows went up, then slammed together. He had been smitten with the pilot as of late. The girls, somehow, had found out about this infatuation and had decided to give him exactly what he wanted: a night with Cid at his mercy. His lips quirked slightly at the thought and he looked back down at Cid, who was obviously waiting for the gunman to release his bonds. "Hmmm, I don't know about that, Highwind." He said calmly, tracing Cid's collarbones with one finger and feeling the pilot tense beneath his touch. He quickly undid the buckles to his cape, dropping the heavy red fabric to the floor. "You see," He continued, toeing off his boots. "Tifa and Yuffie left me a pair of gifts, so who am I to just let one go without enjoying it?" Cid opened his mouth to respond and Vincent leaned over and covered Cid's lips with his own. Apparently Cid was too shocked to do respond or protest, so after a moment Vincent pulled back, only mildly disappointed. Instead he leaned to the side and ran his tongue along Cid's ear lobe, smirking slightly as he heard Cid hiss between his teeth.

Vincent ran his good hand lightly across Cid's torso, along his shoulders to travel up his arm, then back down to dance across his stomach. Cid's whole body was tensed beneath his hands, olive skin starting to sweat nervously, his arms and chest iced with just enough white-blond hair to be interesting. He squirmed as Vincent's fingers found a ticklish spot on his belly, then gasped sharply as they plucked at one tawny nipple. "Vince," He hissed, tugging at the ropes around his wrists. "What in the hell are you doing?"

Vincent chuckled, his lips close enough to brush Cid's ear as he spoke. "I am enjoying my gift, what else?" He purred. His tongue dove lightly into the pilot's ear, earning a shiver. His hand moved lower, lightly brushing the front of Cid's pants. A low keening cry tore from Cid's throat and his hips bucked involuntarily at the contact. "And it seems like my gift is enjoying himself, as well." Vincent added, gently rubbing at the growing erection in Cid's pants with his hand.

"Oh fuck." Cid moaned helplessly, his fists clenching tightly, the cords standing out on his neck. Vincent chuckled softly, his fingers deftly undoing the fly of Cid's jeans and slipping inside to wrap around the pilot. A half-articulate stream of curses escaped from Cid's lips as Vincent slowly, teasingly worked him into a full arousal.

"I've never seen rape as something to take pleasure in," Vincent whispered into Cid's ear, stilling his hand. "So I'm going to ask you outright: Do I untie you and let you leave? Or do I leave you trussed up like this, and we see where this takes us? Do you want this or not, Highwind?"

Cid groaned, arching slightly into the gunman's touch. "I- oh fuck, I want something," He managed hoarsely. "But fuck, Vince, I've never, I've never done anything-"

"You've never been with another man, Cid?" Vincent breathed against the pilot's skin, a smile curving his lips. "You've never touched, never tasted, never known the pleasures that the same sex can give you?" Cid bit his lip and shook his head. "I suppose I'll have to show you, then." He said, almost thoughtfully. He rolled on top of Cid, his good hand lacing through the pilot's hair and bringing his lips to his own. This kiss was much better than the first, mainly because Vincent was able to gently coax Cid into responding. The blond was so unsure as to be almost shy, but Vincent took his time in trying to relax Cid.

However, it seemed that Cid never would relax, and, his own desire making him impatient, Vincent shifted, moving his lips to Cid's neck. He worked his way lower, his tongue sliding across the pilot's skin in slow strokes, making Cid moan whenever he found a particularly sensitive area. Cid gasped sharply as Vincent nibbled lightly at his navel, his hands shoving Cid's jeans off his hips. The gunman sat up and tossed Cid's jeans and briefs to a random corner of the room, then quickly divested himself of his own clothing. He leaned over, grabbed the bottle from the table, then nudged Cid's legs apart to kneel between them. Cid shivered, whether in anticipation or fear, Vincent couldn't tell. He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and managed to pour some of the slick oil into his good hand without spilling it or slicing the bottle open with his claw. He slid his fingers together as he leaned over Cid to speak in his ear again. "I'm going to need your trust, Cid." He breathed. "And I'm going to need you to relax and pull your knees up. I'm not going to say it won't hurt, because it will, but I am going to say that I will make it as painless as possible, and that you will enjoy it, but only if you relax and trust me. Will you trust me in this, Cid?"

"Untie me." Cid hissed. "Untie me, then I'll tell you." Vincent reached up with his claw and easily sliced through the bonds holding Cid's wrists against the bedposts. Cid immediately reached up and pulled off the blindfold, tossing it away. He looked up at the man leaning over him, his blue eyes full of a strange mix of fear and desire, but tinged with curiosity. Scared or not, he was wondering how this was going to feel, Vincent realized and kissed him gently. Cid responded more eagerly than he had before, one hand sliding into Vincent's hair. "Yeah," Cid breathed, breaking the kiss. "You've got my trust, Vince." Vincent smiled softly, then sat back on his feet again as Cid pulled up his legs, his feet flat on the bed. Vincent slowly delved between Cid's cheeks, pressing one finger against his entrance. Cid tensed, his hands fisting into the bedsheets. Vincent's smile grew devious and he lowered his head, taking Cid's erection in his mouth to the hilt as he slipped one finger inside the pilot's tight body.

A choked cry escaped Cid's lips at the sudden sensations. Vincent carefully worked his finger deeper inside Cid's body, pausing whenever he tried to repel the invader, and worked his lips and throat and tongue and teeth around the pilot's erection. Cid's fists were clenched white-knuckled into the bedsheets, his teeth clenched almost as tightly, his lips forming half curses and half prayers. He gasped and moaned and trembled and bucked, any self-control he thought he had long gone as Vincent slid a second finger inside of him. It did hurt, a deep ache that ran through pretty much everything between his navel and knees, but there was pleasure there, too, and not just what came from the gunman's lips.

Moments that lasted eternities and took no time at all passed before Vincent carefully drew his fingers from Cid's body, sitting back on his calves. A half-growl, half-whimper of protest escaped Cid's throat as his body was denied the release that had built agonizingly close. Vincent smirked, running his claw lightly across Cid's chest to tease a nipple even as his fingers stroked the last of the oil along his own length. "Patience, Chief," He said. "Patience. Did you not once say 'The longer the wait, the fiercer the storm'? It was only a few days ago, if I remember correctly."

"Storm this, Vince." Cid replied, reaching up to grab the gunman's shoulders. Vincent's eyes went wide in surprise as the pilot pulled him to the bed and straddled his hips. He had one brief moment to wonder if Cid was going to beat him into the mattress before their lips latched again. "You've still got my trust," Cid said, his smirk more in his voice than on his lips. "We're just doing things on my terms." Vincent laughed breathlessly, his hands moving to hold Cid's hips. Cid reached down to grab Vincent's erection and guided it to his opening as Vincent carefully brought his hips closer. The gunman slowly slid inside the pilot, biting his lip as the tight heat engulfed him completely. Cid let out a low, shuddery breath, his hands on Vincent's chest for balance.

Vincent waited a moment before he began to slowly rock his hips. Cid gasped, biting his lip even as his own hips began to move in counterpoint. Their rhythm grew steadily faster, harder, deeper, breathing harsh and hands exploring. Vincent sat up, tangling his lips with Cid's, then turned to pin the pilot to the mattress without losing a single stroke. Cid's eyes went wide, then shut tightly as a harsh cry of pleasure escaped his lips. Vincent realized what he must've hit and drove deeper, his hair falling around their faces like an ebony curtain. Cid cried out again, locking his legs behind Vincent's back and met the gunman thrust for thrust. The tight heat around him, engulfing him, drawing him ever deeper into the beautiful body below him, it was too much, more than he could stand....He crushed his lips against Cid's, needing to have as much contact with the pilot as he could, to be as deeply connected as possible. "Cid..." He hissed between one gasping breath and the next. "Cid...I'm going.....I'm going to..."

"I don't care what you do," Cid snarled. "As long as you just....fucking....do it." He threw back his head, a strangled cry ripping past his lips as his climax hit him like a tidal wave, his body bucking and tightening. Vincent's own release was torn from his body by the clenching muscles surrounding him and he moaned against Cid's neck, his head spinning wildly. His energy sapped, he collapsed against Cid, having enough presence of mind to carefully withdraw from inside the pilot's body.

They lay there for a long moment, just trying to steady their breathing. After a few minutes Vincent propped himself up on his forearms to look the pilot in the eye.

"What the fuck is all this about, Vince?" Cid asked, sitting up halfway, bracing himself on one elbow. "You said something about gifts; why did those twits do this?"

Vincent sighed ruefully. "Tomorrow- no, technically today, is my birthday." He admitted. "Tifa and Yuffie, somehow, knew that what I wanted most was, well, you."

Cid looked at him for a long moment. "You." He said slowly. "Wanted me. For your birthday." Vincent nodded once, fighting the urge to drop his eyes to the sheets. Cid was still for a minute then laughed, dropping back to the bed. "Wonders never cease." He muttered. "Hope you don't mind having me for the whole night, Vince, 'cause I'm not moving. Get under here."

Vincent smiled and the two managed to get the blankets out from under their bodies and on top instead. Cid hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arm around the gunman, spooning up behind him, smirking a bit as Vincent snuggled into his embrace. "G'night, Vince." He muttered into the gunman's neck. "Happy Birthday."

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Vincent sighed as he was cornered by Tifa and Yiffie in the hallway. "Well?" Yuffie prodded. "Didja like your gift?"

Vincent raised a brow. "You mean Highwind?" He asked dryly. "What kind of gift is he? He swore at me, I explained to him what happened, and we sat up all night playing cards." Their faces fell and Vincent smirked behind his cloak.