'Cloud Strife,' Vincent mused, 'is an amusing drunk.' A kiss should be considered as a weapon. It catches enough people off-guard for that. Cloud/Vincent. Post-AC.
'Cloud Strife,' Vincent mused, 'is an amusing drunk.'
It was Yule, a few weeks after what was termed the 'Silver-haired men incident'. Edge had been restored, and the people were starting to forget that the whole incident had ever taken place. Vincent and his comrades, however, would not forget it. They would not allow themselves to. This party, loud and cheerful, was for relaxation as well as to forge new bonds. Vincent could understand the reasoning for it, but he never could know the allure of the loud voices and gaudy music.
Cloud was stumbling around the room, grinning from ear to ear and waving his punch cup around and nearly taking Cid's head off with it. He was also talking a mile a minute, though Vincent could not understand a single thing that was being said, and suspected that nobody else understood either. He shook his head, leaning against the wall, and let a ghost of a smile grace his lips.
He respected Cloud greatly, and who wouldn't? Vincent admired Cloud's strength, physical and mental and emotional. Cloud was able to remember his past and treasure it, and yet was strong enough to move on from it, while Vincent still, sometimes, felt that he was stuck in the past even though he tried his best to /move on/. He also respected Cloud's physical abilities, for defeating Sephiroth twice could not have been an easy feat.
Cloud had, quite literally, walked into the wall in the midst of his ramblings. Vincent chuckled softly; watching the smaller man as Cloud stood and walked, zigzagging and unsteady on his feet, back towards the punch bowl for a refill of punch. The spiked punch. Somehow or another, the Turks had managed to crash the party and spiked the punch so badly that even Mako couldn't burn the alcohol up fast enough. Or rather, Vincent mentally corrected himself, Reno had managed it.
Vincent jerked his head up, staring in slight surprise at Cloud, who had, somehow, meandered in front of him. He couldn't help but smile at the rather goofy smile on Cloud's usually serious face. It made him look younger, however clichÃ© that sound.
He nodded at Cloud, wondering what did the younger man want. Cloud's grin grew even bigger, and he pointed a finger up, above Vincent's head.
"Did you realize that you're standing underneath the mistletoe?"
Vincent's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't been paying much attention to his own surroundings, concentrating mostly on others, especially Cloud, for the whole duration of the party. A brief shake of his head before Vincent spoke, raising a single eyebrow in question, "No... Is it truly that significant, Cloud?"
The blond nodded, "It's traditional to kiss under the mistletoe for good luck, Vincent."
"I don't believe in luck." A nonchalant shrug of the shoulders as Vincent replied.
"I don't believe in it either, but, hey, Christmas spirit, hmm?" The large, goofy grin had turned into a softer, more sincere one. Vincent wondered if the alcohol was being cleared by the Mako in Cloud's blood, for the look in his eyes were nothing but clear and glittering with mischief.
Vincent opened his mouth in protest, wanting to say that the tradition was rather silly and he'd rather not indulge in it, but he didn't get a chance. He felt himself pulled down by his collar and a soft, warm mouth pressed against his own. He closed his mouth with an audible 'click', nearly biting down on Cloud's lips in his shock.
The kiss was chaste, a simple meeting of lips that seemed so much more complicated to him. He didn't kiss back, standing stock still, wanting to pull away but was hindered by Cloud's hand in his collar.
After a few agonizing seconds (or was it an eternity?), Cloud pulled away. Vincent blinked at the sudden lack of contact, then blinked again at the large, goofy and utterly fake grin on Cloud's face. He wanted to say /something/, to ask Cloud just why did he kiss him because Vincent was sure that the mistletoe and alcohol were just excuses. Vincent knew that Cloud wasn't exactly an advocate for tradition, and he didn't exactly have a low alcohol tolerance either.
'Why did he kiss me and why does he look so hurt now?'
"Well, I'm sure you'll have good luck next year, then?"
Vincent's attention was snapped back to Cloud, opening his mouth to speak before realizing, too late, that Cloud was already turning, walking away. Pride closed his throat, refusing to allow him to call Cloud back, to ask for a reason. He could only watch as Cloud disappear back into the crowd, possibly to get more punch, before wondering, dazedly, if the kiss had truly happened or it was an alcohol-induced hallucination.