Touch me
folder
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male › Cid/Vincent
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
772
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male › Cid/Vincent
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
772
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own FF 7 or any of its characters, and I make no money on this fic
Touch me
Title: Touch me
Author: Enide Dear
Pairing: Valenwind
Rating: NC-17
Maybe it was all those years in a lab and the things that had been done to his body there that made Vincent’s body extra sensitive, or maybe it was the demons inside him that enhanced his feelings like they did with his other senses.
Maybe that was why the sensation of callused, warm hands sliding down the side of his body, slightly rough on tender skin to make it blush as he lay atop the pilot in bed made Vincent tingle and fill with a warmth he couldn’t stop. Made him rub against the muscular body, needing to feel more with every inch of naked skin. Made every touch of lips on lips feel like it would engulf the world.
He’s on his belly and the sheet underneath him feels like grating sandpaper on his overly sensitive nerve-endings even as he shudders with delight at the heavy weight on top of him, the bites and nibbles along his neck that drives primitive (or is it demonic?) urges through him, makes him bend his neck to give better access for teeth and hot tongue sliding against the exposed throat. His legs move apart by themselves, wantonly, as he arches up against Cid. He can’t wait any longer now, can’t wait…
Cid’s hand slide underneath him, caressing him before the pilot even moves forward but Vincent can finally feel the hard planes of the pelvis against his buttocks, the heat against his cool skin, every tiny move feels enhanced a hundred times. He gasps, almost sobs, because it’s too gentle and too slow and braces his arms to push back against the pilot, filling himself until he can feel the short golden hairs tickling his tender skin.
“More…more…” He tries to speed them up, but in this position Cid is far stronger and he almost falls into the pillow as the thrusts start, each one making him loose his breath. He’s not even sure the lamp is still lit in the room; sight means nothing now nor does smell or taste or hearing, only this oscillating feelings of *want* and *being wanted* that swirls through him, growing like a tidal wave with each rhythmical thrust.
The grip on his hips gets harder, the pace speeding up, the hand holding him grows more and more insistent and the world might have ended now and he wouldn’t have noticed.
His body shakes; his arms give up and he falls down on the pillow even as his hips push forwards, forwards, into the warm, skilled hand and there’s a mewling sound filling the bedroom that must come from him, because the timbre of Cid’s groans can still be heard and the thrusts gets harder as Vincent collects his mind somewhat and squeezes him back and then Cid can’t take it any more either and a hot wave floods Vincent, sweeping the last of thoughts or tension with it.
Cid falls down over him, careful not to crush him, and they snuggle up together, kissing and caressing and utterly content. And even now the touch of callused hands makes Vincent’s skin react, craving more as he move closer. He wonders at that when he shuts his eyes, his head resting on Cid’s shoulder.
Maybe it’s the demons causing such a powerful reaction in him, or maybe it’s the experiments.
Or maybe, maybe it’s just Cid Highwind.
Author: Enide Dear
Pairing: Valenwind
Rating: NC-17
Maybe it was all those years in a lab and the things that had been done to his body there that made Vincent’s body extra sensitive, or maybe it was the demons inside him that enhanced his feelings like they did with his other senses.
Maybe that was why the sensation of callused, warm hands sliding down the side of his body, slightly rough on tender skin to make it blush as he lay atop the pilot in bed made Vincent tingle and fill with a warmth he couldn’t stop. Made him rub against the muscular body, needing to feel more with every inch of naked skin. Made every touch of lips on lips feel like it would engulf the world.
He’s on his belly and the sheet underneath him feels like grating sandpaper on his overly sensitive nerve-endings even as he shudders with delight at the heavy weight on top of him, the bites and nibbles along his neck that drives primitive (or is it demonic?) urges through him, makes him bend his neck to give better access for teeth and hot tongue sliding against the exposed throat. His legs move apart by themselves, wantonly, as he arches up against Cid. He can’t wait any longer now, can’t wait…
Cid’s hand slide underneath him, caressing him before the pilot even moves forward but Vincent can finally feel the hard planes of the pelvis against his buttocks, the heat against his cool skin, every tiny move feels enhanced a hundred times. He gasps, almost sobs, because it’s too gentle and too slow and braces his arms to push back against the pilot, filling himself until he can feel the short golden hairs tickling his tender skin.
“More…more…” He tries to speed them up, but in this position Cid is far stronger and he almost falls into the pillow as the thrusts start, each one making him loose his breath. He’s not even sure the lamp is still lit in the room; sight means nothing now nor does smell or taste or hearing, only this oscillating feelings of *want* and *being wanted* that swirls through him, growing like a tidal wave with each rhythmical thrust.
The grip on his hips gets harder, the pace speeding up, the hand holding him grows more and more insistent and the world might have ended now and he wouldn’t have noticed.
His body shakes; his arms give up and he falls down on the pillow even as his hips push forwards, forwards, into the warm, skilled hand and there’s a mewling sound filling the bedroom that must come from him, because the timbre of Cid’s groans can still be heard and the thrusts gets harder as Vincent collects his mind somewhat and squeezes him back and then Cid can’t take it any more either and a hot wave floods Vincent, sweeping the last of thoughts or tension with it.
Cid falls down over him, careful not to crush him, and they snuggle up together, kissing and caressing and utterly content. And even now the touch of callused hands makes Vincent’s skin react, craving more as he move closer. He wonders at that when he shuts his eyes, his head resting on Cid’s shoulder.
Maybe it’s the demons causing such a powerful reaction in him, or maybe it’s the experiments.
Or maybe, maybe it’s just Cid Highwind.