Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7

Hide and Seek

by sophiamoon

Cid doesn't have the courage to tell Vincent how he feels about him.

Category: Final Fantasy 7 - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Angst, Romance - Characters: Cid Highwind, Vincent Valentine - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2006-10-24 - Updated: 2006-10-24 - 5841 words - Complete

?Blocked
Cid Highwind never quite remembered when he had fallen in love with Vincent Valentine. Things like that are, in reality, never what they pretend to be in stories. No sudden flash of lightning, no revelation of an all-embracing truth. It was simply there, in the corner of his heart where he had never really looked before.

But he knew when he fell in love all over again.

The kids were being kids again. Not sick, tiny adults. Kids. Doing what little human beings are born to do: play. A whole bunch of them, boys and girls, playing hide and seek in a small area full of rubble and a few empty houses. All declared safe, of course. He and a couple of other grown-ups had made sure of that. Not that he had planned on it, it was just that he had a little time left between two delivery jobs. And to be honest; it was actually nice doing something that had nothing to do with fighting or swearing.

Even Marlene was running around looking for the most perfect place to hide, her voice high with the excitement of being chased without being in danger. In fact she was so preoccupied with being the very last to be found, that she bumped right into Vincent's tall body.

Cid knew that the silent man was patient with children, although he was sure that it was because he simply didn't notice them or the noise they made, unless they were in danger, in which case he could become fiercely protective.

Though never in his wildest dreams could Cid have imagined that Vincent would open his red mantle to give Marlene the most wonderful, magical hiding place a little girl could think of.

Cid felt his heart break with the beauty of the simple gesture. Sometime, long ago, there had been a young man with a sense of humor. There had been a child. And part of that was still there, hidden under layers of black and red cloth and silence. In a way he was still playing hide and seek, even if he believed no one was looking for him. And who could blame him if even the man who knew to be madly in love with him didn't take the trouble telling him? If the man who felt life was hardly worth living without him did everything to hide his own feelings behind loud actions and even louder words?

Would it be so hard to simply say what was on his mind and gracefully accept the outcome? Would Vincent blame him for his affections even if they might not be answered? Would he hate Cid for simply being human?

Of course he would say nothing, like he had said nothing for months and months. He didn't even know why. Vincent might be a very private person, he was not unapproachable. As damaged surely beyond anyone's imagination, with monsters inside he was forced to show now and again, he was certainly not a doll made of porcelain. So why not simply ask him out for a beer and a few snacks and simply tell him...

Tell him what?

"You've got the prettiest face I've ever seen, can I take a look to see if the rest is just as pretty?"

And why not? Was being called pretty a bad thing? Cid thought not. Then, perhaps, those were not the right words if you really wanted to say something that sounded like marriage without being too literary about it.

Cid wished it was simply about him having the hots for another man. Then he would know how to say, more or less, the right words to get into the nearest bed and do as many of the things he only fantasized about when he was being really good friends with his left and his right hand.

He had always been a simple man. Not stupid, that's not what he meant. More like 'what you see is what you get.' Straightforward. Unrefined, perhaps, but honest and trustworthy.

Maybe too rough around the edges for someone like Vincent.

Cid had never thought about himself in such terms, but then he had never been this stupidly, stubbornly in love with a man who made him weak in the knees simply by looking in his direction with those mako-red eyes. He, who would attack any monster with a pointy stick and above all trust in his own prowess as a warrior, had not the courage to tell a friend he loved him.

So once again he found himself sitting in a small, semi-dark, rundown place to get drunk and not to be seen. Even getting the attention of the young man in the other corner with long, dark hair, who looked almost a bit like the man he did want, was no longer of any use. Lust could be easily transferred from person to person, as he knew from ample experience. Love, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated. Any tall, dark and handsome man wasn't enough anymore. No, it had to be that particular man.

What else then to down another beer too fast, eat something he didn't particularly liked, smoke yet another cigarette and trying to pretend he wasn't jealous of the couple he couldn't stop staring at? Damn. Hadn't seen them in quite a few weeks. Rude still quiet, while Reno did more than enough talking for the both of them. You could almost say that together they formed one pretty normal person.

Cid forgot to chuckle at his own inward joke, because the moment he looked passed the ongoing amusement so readily provided by the comical duo, he saw devotion and implicit trust. Nothing Reno said, and he talked like a salesman on a Friday afternoon, was about love. He just nattered on and on about things of no consequence, his hands touching at Rude's arms and shoulders and sometimes even piercings. Rude let it all happen with a tolerance that could only have come from affection. No matter how perfectly composed his expression; to Cid there was no doubt that the big bald man adored the lively redhead. How else could he tolerate, perhaps even enjoy, as unlikely at the seemed to Cid, the unending stream of words that came from Reno's mouth? How else could Reno not be side-tracked from the seemingly indifference of his lover, if not by the simple awareness that love knows many faces?

Although it seemed even Rude's patience knew a certain limit, or perhaps the voice of his beloved redhead made him horny as hell. Reno was after all the cutest little thing you could imagine, cute and deadly. Even Cid had no trouble admitting that much to himself. To be short: Rude abruptly stood, took Reno's hand with his big paw and just about dragged him upstairs. And everyone on the premises knew what happened upstairs.

That strawberry-head even had the audacity to wink at him, as if he made fun of the green monster lurking behind Cid's eyes.

Sweet ass... Sweet mouth...

Cid sighed. He hated them. No, he hated himself for not having the courage to take the risk they must have taken somewhere along the line. The courage to simply say the words, make the gesture and to hell with everything else. Why didn't he have the guts when it would give him at least a chance to get what Rude and Reno had?

Even the smallest child learned soon enough that hide and seek became very boring if no one was looking for you. Or if you didn't look for the other child.

Cid would take the first step. Not tonight, while he was drunk. No the first thing in the morning, while he would have the hangover of all hangovers. Not later during the day, when he had things to do. Not...

Sad thing was: here he was, sitting alone at a table in a bar that hadn't even been remotely classy in its heydays, sporting a very convincing hard-on thanks to the fact that he just couldn't stop seeing full color pictures with his mind's eye of Rude pounding his undoubtedly talented dick into Reno's sweet little ass, and he didn't even feel like jacking off when he came home.

Whoever said that love was the most wonderful thing that could ever happen to a man, must have been barking mad.


Cid returned from a delivery job when saw Vincent heading for the gun shop. No doubt he was looking for some ammo. But why? For the time being there were no bad guys in the neighborhood, at least none that were of immediate threat.

"I'm planning to hunt some beasts. I could use the cash," Vincent explained readily to his friend.

Cid nodded. "Not much to be done here."

That was not true, there was more work to rebuilding the city than one liked to think of, but perhaps it was not the kind of activity Vincent would feel most comfortable with. Spending so many years in a coffin kind of made a guy out of touch with normal things like bricklaying and carpeting.

If he was clever, Cid thought, he could, casually of course, ask Vincent if he could use some company. Two together were far more efficient at hunting mako-beasts than apart. At night he could make a cozy fire, prepare a bit of food. You know, doing the usual male bonding type of thing.

His imagination started to get into full gear. Perhaps there would be a situation where he had to, sort of, rescue Vincent from some unforeseen danger. It would be advisable if nothing serious happened to either of them, but some cuts and bruises would be perfectly acceptable if it landed a shocked, but thankful Vincent in his arms.

Yeah right, like Vincent was made out of damsel-in-distress material. No, more likely if he went along, Cid wouldn't know what to do, what to say if it went beyond the hunting and making fire department. He would behave like some ridiculous idiot instead of a grown man asking another grown man if he might be interesting to get to know each other on a more intimate level.

Ah well, just another perfect chance getting perfectly fucked up.

Days went by. Vincent came back from the hunt. The successful hunt. In one piece. Without a scratch. Not being in the need of getting rescued by one Cid Highwind. Cid, who was so busy enjoying a bout of self pity for not being needed by the most gorgeous man on the planet, that he missed Vincent's question about getting dinner together.

"If it's inconvenient, perhaps we could some other time..."

If he sounded as panicky as he felt, Cid didn't mind. He just couldn't stop the words, because anything was better than this endless misery. "No. I want dinner with you. In fact, I want lots more things with you."

If possible Vincent disappeared even more inside his cloak, only his eyes peering out. Looking shocked, or perhaps frightened, or even angry. Cid really didn't know. He only knew he had said something terribly wrong and now he was left without even the illusion that perhaps, maybe, someday he would become Vincent's lover.

So there actually had been a reason he had kept his trap shut for so long about this.

He made a helpless gesture with his hands. "Forget it."

"I will not do that. I am not sure yet what you mean by "it" but I surely plan to find out," came Vincent's soft voice from behind the collar. "I have no idea what's the matter with you. You have never any trouble letting everybody know what you think about certain matters in no uncertain terms. You are a good man, Cid Highwind, but subtlety isn't one of your strong points . So why this uncharacteristic behavior?"

"Because I'm in love with you, stupid fucker," Cid blurted out.

"And it never occurred to you to share this interesting and useful piece of information with me?" Vincent stayed so calm, it simply infuriated Cid, who once again discovered the experience of being truly lost for words.

"Perhaps I should have told you your attentions would be very welcome, but since you never even indicated you might be interested in me, other than as a friend, I thought it would be unwise to even start about this subject."

"Thanks for trusting me, Vince." Cid sounded bitter, he knew that. All those lonely nights wasted, while they could have been spent in bed, with the long-haired beauty in his arms. And all because he hadn't had the courage to be himself. He couldn't blame Vincent. Not really. After all, a shy, silent Cid was simply too out of character to not confuse even the most observant gunslinger.

"You still want dinner?" Vincent asked quietly.

"You damn well know I do," Cid answered, not so quietly, "But first I'm gonna do this." And with more self confidence than he actually felt at that moment, he stood on his toes, pushed the collar of Vincent's mantle down and kissed the other man squarely on his mouth.

He felt Vincent's lips form an almost-smile, before he was kissed back. It was firm and softly wet and every bit as wonderful as in his fantasies. No, much better because suddenly he realized he had an acceptable justification to actually touch this lovely man. Not some stolen touches, hidden by flimsy excuses, no real touches as usual between people in love.

Vincent had told him he was in love with him, hadn't he? Or at least he had implied it. No need to worry. He had a plan to follow: dinner, taking him home and let the rest take care of itself. It was a bit of a step between being friends and lovers, but they both had a mouth to talk with, brains to understand with. They could take it slow or fast or anything in between. They could still play hide and seek if they wanted to, but now they could agree upon who would play which part so no one would be waiting in vain.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Funny really how every thing changed once knowing. It was like getting to know each other all over again, even when they had spend countless times together drinking and smoking and staring at the endless sky, not saying anything really. It suddenly became overly important what kind of food Vincent liked, if he still remembered the songs from his childhood, what was his favorite anything. And it became equally important that Vincent knew all those things about him.

Most of all, he just wanted to finish the meal and get home as fast as possible to get his first real look at the man hidden underneath the heavy cloak. He couldn't imagine Vincent being anything other than drop-dead gorgeous, but he started to become unbearably curious about the details. He knew all too well that the experiments must have left their traces and he wanted to see them, get to know them so intimately that they would become part of a shared memory. Cid had few illusions about the future of almost anything, but he would do the near impossible to make sure Vincent would feel loved. He could be as often alone as he desired, because love would not make him less of a private person, Cid knew that too well, but never lonely.

And if he was really, really honest he simply wanted to fuck and get fucked and if possible three times in a row. Then smoke a fag or two, get a few winks of sleep and do the same thing all over again. He was hopeful Vince might feel somewhat the same, if the light touches on his hand and sort-of smiles meant anything. Having only one human hand at his disposal, Vincent couldn't do casual. Every touch meant putting his fork or glass down.

It made Cid happy like a chocobo with more gysahl greens than it could ever hope to eat.

It also made him hard as a nail. If he didn't get Vince home very soon, he would simply throw him on the table and have his wicked way with him. Okay, the way Vincent dressed, with all those belts and buckles made any spontaneous action virtually impossible, but it was the thought that counted. So before anything embarrassing, like coming in his pants because another man held his hand, happened he paid the bill for the food and all but pushed Vincent out of the door.

Yes, they managed to get safely at Cid's home. With all their clothes still on. More or less. And no, they had no idea how that happened, because they had done everything in their power to get a good feel here, to give a kiss there. Who would have guessed Vincent was just as bad?

It proved at least that the quiet, reticent ones were not by necessity blushing virgins.

"Please, Cid, I need to see you naked," Vincent asked, while his human hand already started at the task of getting his lover undressed.

"Just sit down and let me do all the work." Vincent did as he was told, still very much dressed except for the cloak. And in Cid's opinion that was a mighty step forwards.

Cid had never been self-conscious about his body. He simply hadn't any reason to be. It was a good body that had always served him well as a fighter and a lover. But now the only pair of eyes that really mattered looked at him with steady interest and he felt a shyness he didn't believe he possessed in the first place. Not only did he seriously doubt anyone could be as perfect as Vincent deserved (although he knew on a rational base that that was a ridiculous thought) he also didn't know how Vincent would react to a body that had the telltale signs of battles and time, not of the brutally of another human's blatant disregard of one's physical integrity. He knew even without looking that Vincent was the most beautiful man to have ever existed, but would he be believed? Would he be ridiculed for being blinded by an infatuation that would soon be over if he saw the truth with his own eyes?

By the time he had discarded his boxer shorts he was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed the small sound that came from Vincent's mouth. He looked up, half worried that something might be wrong, but what he saw went straight to his heart and his cock. Vincent's eyes were wide with lust and adoration, his tongue licking his lips in a gesture he was most likely not even aware of. Cid had had his fair share of admires of both sexes, and a few in-betweens too, but no one had looked at him like he was the one thing they had been waiting for all their lives, the one thing they were willing to die for, to kill for. To live for.

"Fuck," he cursed, not knowing for sure what was there to curse about.

"Yes, please." How in the name of everything that was sane and holy could a voice be so cool and contained, and at the same time ooze pure sex?

Cid grinned. "Whatever you want, you got it. You can ask around: I'm highly flexible between the sheets."

"I'm happy to hear that." Vincent stood up, took one step and that was enough to be able to pull Cid in his arms.

"You are way overdressed." Cid managed to say between kisses.

"You are aware of...." Vincent started.

"Of how beautiful and sexy you are and how much I want my dick in your sweet tight ass or your hard, hot dick in my ass..."

"Now you sit down," Vincent ordered and Cid did as he was told.

Once there was a time when Cid would have wondered why Vincent had chosen clothes that were a bit on the complicated side for a one-handed man, but by the time Vincent was fully undressed he understood about his extreme need for physical privacy. And he also knew it had nothing to do with shame, because it was obvious Vince wasn't ashamed to show the result of science gone mad. He just wanted to be absolutely sure he was the one deciding who would get access to his body. If only in a symbolic manner by way of something as vulnerable as clothes.

Cid's patience was tested to the limit. He wanted to touch Vincent, show him with his mouth and hands and cock how much he lusted after him. He would trail from scar to scar, mapping the perfection in between like a land he hoped to visit as often as possible. He would learn the difference between soft skin and hard bone. He would get to know the muscles as intimately as any part of his own body.

To put it in plain words: the man was fucking hot. And little Cid, who wasn't so little when he became enthusiastic, seemed wholeheartedly to agree.

"Look, he really likes you." Cid nodded at his iron hard erection, who pointed happily in Vincent's, very naked one might add, direction. Then he looked straight at Vincent's long, elegant cock. "They want to play."

"Then we shall have to let them."

And before Cid could add another word, he was pushed back and was covered by a warm, strong body. There was no choice than to jump right in the middle of the storm and let it all happen. He knew that it had been ages for Vincent, and it was doubtful he had much experience before... but he had most likely had spend a few thoughts about it and didn't lack eagerness. He rubbed his own cock against Cid's, used his hand in good effect and didn't forget to kiss his lover's mouth with a fervor that was most commendable.

But he didn't involve his claw in any of this.

"You can touch me with your claw too if you want to," Cid offered.

"Thank you, but I would break your bones if I should use it." Vincent smiled in resignation. "I am simply too excited by you to be able to control it properly."

"That's the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me." Cid beamed, his hands following the lines of Vincent's back and ass. He felt the crude lines of scars from wounds that were poorly dealt with. That Hojo bastard hadn't even done that grace for the man he had been experimenting on. It wasn't worth one thought. The one that mattered was here, lying in his arms, making small sounds when he, oh so carefully, touched the perineum.

It gave him the courage to simply ask: "Can I fuck you?"

"Please, yes."

Those simple words might not be what they had fantasized about all those months. It might be too much too soon, but they could do slow and sensible some other time. After all the waiting, the preparation, the words that were spoken and the words that weren't spoken, it all came down to Cid sinking deep into Vincent, both being breathless for a moment because of the wonder off it all.

Cid threaded his fingers through Vincent's long, dark hair. He needed to move, to complete what he had started. What they had started. But he didn't dare, because then it would mean it would all be over and for the first time he wanted it to last and never end.

"Lover, move."

"You do me in the morning?" Cid tried.

"In the morning and the evening and in the middle of the day. But please, move." Such an urgent sound, how could he resist even a moment longer? So he shifted a bit, trying to hit the spot that would send his beloved straight to heaven.

Vincent's eye went wide, his hand pressed against the small of Cid's back, his claw moving restless against the bedding. Oh, and the sounds that he made. Such lovely, breathy sounds of surrender and trust. Cid wished he could tell him that, but even if he would have found the right words, how would it be possible to actually say them, if all he was able to do was stare into those eyes that never looked away, while his body took control?

After a few tries they found the perfect rhythm. It was far gentler than Cid had expected, but it was exactly as it should be at that moment. Vincent had promised him a next time, and he knew the man to be true to his word. He no longer had to act like this was the only opportunity to get Vincent naked in his bed. No need to do everything in one night. No use trying to make up for lost time. There was only the now he lived in, and if he and Vince wanted slow and comfortable, than that was exactly what they were doing.

Just before Cid wanted to say Vincent to touch himself, it was already done. The combination of the heat around his cock and the visual pleasure of seeing Vincent's hand moving fast until he reached completion was enough to orgasm.

Happily he held Vincent in his arms, sharing a cigarette. This might not be the most spectacular sex he had ever had, but that didn't matter. This was like fine-tuning a delicate engine, not kick-starting some old piece of junk. They just wanted to be together, to be as closely connection as humanly possible. All the other fun stuff could wait a little longer. Luxuriating in the feeling of simply being with the man he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with, he kissed his beloved's hair, smiled contently and closed his eyes.

Perhaps he slept a few moments, but when he opened his eyes again he saw the first rays of light of a new day. Fine and all, providing nobody expected that he would leave his bed as long as the man in his arms was willing to stay. Damned, he hadn't felt this perfect in ages.

And his dick seemed to be of the same mind, because Cid sensed a fresh eagerness to do things with Vincent. Didn't really matter what; although he could think of a thing or two that were very high on his "to do as soon as possible" list.

Almost without Cid being aware of it, the thumb of his right hand started to stroke a pink nipple. A soft sigh was the answering reward. Just to see what would happen, he stopped.

"Cid..." No more than a breath of air. Hardly audible, still so pleading.

"Want more?" Now consciously teasing, Cid ghosted a single finger close enough over the erect little button to make Vince aware of its presence, without actually touching.

"How eager are you to get fucked?" Vincent slowly opened his eyes.

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"I wouldn't dare." Vincent said in a completely neutral voice, keeping a completely neutral face. Such an innocent man.

Cid grinned. "Then you're offering me something?"

"Could be. Are you?"

"I would sell my soul to the highest bidder and offer you the proceeds to get that gorgeous cock of yours so deep in my ass I can taste it." Cid bowed his head and took the neglected nipple in his mouth, using his hand to play with Vincent's very nearly full erection.

"If any part of you would ever be on sale, no one would even get the chance to bid on you. I would kill them first." Vincent's became low and dangerous, making Cid shiver with delight.

"I love it when you talk dirty." Cid let go of Vincent just long enough to say what he had to say, before he shimmied down to get a taste of his lover. He wrapped his lips around the head and used the tip of his tongue to tease the already wet slit. Salty sweet and clean as anything; by far the best he had ever tasted on a man. In fact he enjoyed it so much that he took as much of the shaft in his mouth as he could manage, which was quite a bit, actually, thanks to a combination of experience and enthusiasm. While not being a sword-swallower he loved the heavy feeling of flesh against his tongue, the musky taste of maleness.

It started to feel very good when Vincent lost some of his iron control and started to make small, involuntary movements. To encourage him Cid made a humming noise deep within his throat and gently placed his fingers around the sac until he could actually feel the testicles moving.

Cid was certain without a doubt that the long moan that came from Vincent's mouth, while he shot his load, was his name. He swallowed till the very last drop, reluctant to let go, even when Vincent tried to get eye to eye.

"I think I got me a new addiction." Cid kissed Vincent deeply to share the incredible taste. "Hell, you're even tastier than the first cigarette in the morning and the last beer in the night. And no, I haven't forgotten about you fucking me. Just got a bit side-tracked."

Then he realized how quiet Vincent was.

"Did I say anything wrong?"

Vincent shook his head.

"I did something wrong than?"

Vincent shook his head again.

"Fuck, Vinnie, talk to me?"

"I would, believe me, if I had the words for so much joy."

Cid didn't think he could hold another human being any tighter without doing some serious damage.

"You are kind, courageous and the most sexually attractive man I could possibly hope to bed. To be honest: I fully expected you to make another choice."

"I damn well hope you don't think I'm out of my mind. I'm not blind or anything, I know when I see a pretty boy, and you're the prettiest of them all." To emphasize his words Cid kissed the other man softly on his lips. "Besides, if I just wanted pretty, I wouldn't have to wait all those months. I can get enough of those if I want to. But no, it just had to be you. I was starting to get real jealous of what Reno and Rude have. Them being together, really being together I mean and not just having a bit of fun outside work"

Vincent touched Cid's face almost like he made the same, wondrous, discovery all over again. "I can't remember when it became clear to me how beautiful you are."

"All rugged and manly, eh? You like that?" Cid teased.

"Let's say that on more than one occasion I was grateful to be able to hide any potential embarrassment behind the folds of my cloak." A finger slid subtly along an ear. "My hand and I became very, very well acquainted in the last couple of months."

"You got all hard and hot for me? And you fantasized about me when you jerked off?" Cid grinned like a fox in a chicken house, "Care to share some of the details?"

"Perhaps a hands-on demonstration would be even more appreciated?" Before Cid could say anything, Vincent had pushed him on his back. Not a full second later he was licking the pre-come from Cid's cock like he was enjoying a popsicle.

"Much better than any fantasy," he said, between licks. "Gods, I could do this twice a day and still not get enough of you. Would it be okay if I went with you on your ship, so when you are doing whatever you are doing, I can kneel between your thighs and suck this deliciousness until I pass out from an overload of pleasure?"

Cid, being only human, produced a lot of sounds that tried to be words but weren't really. And he didn't get any more eloquent when Vincent's tongue made a wet trail from the head of his cock to the puckered opening to his body.

"On your hands and knees. Open your legs as wide as possible."

Cid was thankful for the clear and precise directions, because he didn't think he could understand anything more complicated. In fact, it was nothing short of a miracle he was able to think at all. He had always suspected Vincent was hiding a surprise or two underneath his cloak, but this went beyond even his wildest imagination. To know that it was all because he was Cid Highwind and not just some random rugged guy with short blond hair, made it the most touching experience in his life. Something precious was offered to him, and he promised himself to never take it for granted.

Then all thinking stopped. A warm, wet tongue was pushed flatly against the crack of his ass, moving so slightly Cid thought he was going out of his mind. He needed...

He no longer knew what he needed. He pushed back against the insistent tongue, but it was not enough by far. Then the tongue was gone, to be replaced by a soft stream of warm air, only to be replaced by the tongue again. This went on and on until Cid all but sobbed with the frustration of it all. He tried to make sense of it all, regularity he could follow. But every time he thought he had the pattern down, Vincent did something unexpected.

Cid howled his relieve when, almost brusquely if not for the abundant use of lube, he was entered by Vincent's hard flesh. He came with the second or third stroke, without his own cock being touched in any way. Flood after flood shuddered through him, leaving him unable to support himself on his hands and knees. Vincent held him firmly, never missing even a single stroke. He was being fucked perfectly, like by a faultless, well-tuned machine. And still Vincent was as alive and warm and considerate as Cid could hope for in a lover.

"I love you," he murmured, "I love what you do to me."

A kiss was planted on his back. "And I love what you do to me and what you let me do to you."

It took a few more moments before Vincent came, calmly and with a soft, long sigh of what translated equally as regret and gratitude.

They lay there for a few moments, close together, not saying anything. Then Cid lit a cigarette.

"You staying?"

Vincent deeply inhaled the smoke. "You're not talking about today, are you?"

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps I'm not. We already know we do fine as friends. And the sex isn't half bad either. So I thought we can, perhaps, if you're of the same mind..."

"I am." Vincent snuggled comfortably against Cid's relaxed body.

"Good," Cid said, stroking the long, dark hair, "Good."
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