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The Breath of an Angel	By : psychoferret Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Breath of an Angel
- 1
Author: The Psycho Ferret

Disclaimers: This, is the usual stuff. I do not own FF7 or any of the characters within. I do not own Vincent or Cid, Sephiroth or Lucrecia. I am just doing this for my own sick amusement of reading about two hot guys boinking each other. yes, B-O-I-N-K-I-N-G.

Warnings: Lemon. Yay!

Pairings: VincentxCid

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I run my fingers over the length of it... the smooth, warm surface slipping beneath my fingers comforting me with that strange familiarity. The feeling of sleek perfection filling me with battering memories of times gone by.

Times I'd forced myself to atone for.

People forget. They force themselves to forget such things that horrify them, and yet, monsters feast on these same things. I feast on my own horror and pain to atone for the things I did in years gone by. I peel away every layer that I cover myself with only to find my spirit more and more revolting. And Id thd that I didn't deserve to love her, and that it was only right that she wasn't with me. I could never have provided her with the basic emotional needs Humans require for happiness.

Lucrecia... all of my sins somehow come back to her. But oh does my heart ache to think of how that one creature--Hojo--learned every secret she had... how he destroyed her.

No. I destroyed her and her hopes of happiness. If I had never entered into her life, all would be fine. She would be happy. And still alive.

Even 30 years after the incident, I cannot relieve myself of the guilt. Such pain, such sorrow always haunts my mind, always urged on by the voice of that daemon within me so elegantly named Chaos.

And now I wait here, knowing that I should sleep but knowing that I can't. How can I sleep when tomorrow is the day that I face Lucrecia's son? That I will participate in slaying the person I swore to her that I would protect?

And this is why I hold this child in rms rms now. The child of cold, onyx steel that once sinned with me, holstered on my hip. The familiar scent of powder resting on the slmuzzmuzzle, that tangy, bitter smell that invigorated my senses every time the child roared and bared it's lead-ridden breath upon its victims. This child fits perfectly into the palm of my hand, resting calmly where the aftershock of it's deadly scream caresses my limb like a lover.

Now it feels like dead weight in my hands. Unnaturally cold. It knows who it's next target will be. Death Penalty... how ironic. It's last victim will be it's wielder, it's friend, it's lover. The child will help me atone for all that I have done.

For some reason, I feel warm tears slip down my cheeks. Why am I crying? This will end all that I have worked for. A lovconcconclusion to this miserably long existence of mine.

No one ever really thought I'd been this close to insanity, I guess. They should have known. Or maybe that was my fault too. I should have somehow let them know. If they cared any, they would have perhaps been there to help me save myself. But every moment I slip farther and farther off this cliff.

I look down at the onyx angel in my hand, crimson eyes staring at it's morbid beauty. A thing of death. The item that will be my end.

Idly I wonder what way would be the least messy. The maid will have a fit when she comes to clean the room tomorrow morning.

I smile bitterly. How fitting that I, the monster, will perish inside the haunted inn within the depths of the Golden Saucer.

Ignoring the salty wetness dripping from my face, I lift the thing, noticing that my arms suddenly becoming as heavy as lead. My movements are slow and clumsy. And then I realize that the thought of doing this... of committing self-murder... it sickens me. I can feel the bile rising in my throat, threatening to burst from my lips.

Gods... I can't escape it. I can't escape this life no matter how hard I try.

I choke on a soft sob, let the pistol slip from my now numb fingers to the soft carpet and pull my legs against my chest.

It hurts, you know... cowardice.

I hear the door to the room open.

Yes. A shared room. Shared with Cid.

He flips on the lights. I hear him toss his jean coat onto one of the nearby beds. "Vinnie?" I hear him call out to me. "Are you alright?"

Gods, why now? Why did he have to come back now? In this moment of truth and injustice, why did he have to return?

I don't answer his question, for I know that if I do, my anguish, my pain will leak into my voice.

He takes a few steps forward. I can feel his presence next to me. I turn my face from him, if only slightly. I can't let him see me like this. I'm pathetic enough as it is.

For some reason, I care what he thinks.

And it?s then when I realize. Scrolling over the memories of our adventure. Of those times when Cid would speak in his gruff, offensive way, and I would feel a great warmth spread through me. That when he'd embrace me in a friendly hug after a successful battle I'd feel safe for those few moments. Safer than I'd ever felt. And the joy that would secretly spread through me when he'd boost what little frayed confidence I have.

I think... I love him.

At the sudden realization, I catch my breath, choking back one of those soft sobs. My eyes widen. Gods? love?

I think he notices the discarded pistol resting on the floor. Barely ever do I let it leave my side. He leans down and picks it up only to set it on the smooth surface of the glass top coffee table.

He puts a hand on my shoulder. A strong, comforting hand.

"Vincent?" His voice seems worried, but I still don?t answer or move.

He shuffles his feet a little before slipping his fingers under my chin and lifting my face to where he can see me.

The crystalline drops continue to spill down my cheeks. I?m watching him through my blurred crimson gaze, registering what my mind comprehends as worry.

He doesn?t shift his hand from its place cupping my chin. A callused thumb idly caresses my wet cheek, brushing away those last, fleeting tears.

I?m transfixed, unable to move beneath that gentle touch, unwilling to break the contact, the current of electricity that shoots through my body as if I were being struck by lightning.

And then he?s kissing me. A moment of bliss.

And then a sudden irrepressible anger.

None too gently, I shove him away from me, rising from my twisted position to my booted feet.

"What the hell are you doing!?" It?s really the first time I?ve raised my voice since I?ve met him.

He?s stunned. At my push, he stumbles back a few steps, hands falling to his sides.

"How?" I can?t even finish my question.

"I..."

"How could you bring yourself so low!?"

"I-I wasn?t?"

"Kissing a thing like me? A creature better off left alone, or better yet, dead!"

There. I have given voice to my thoughts, my self-hatred.

The look on his face?much to my surprise?softens, a small smile creeping onto his lips.

"You?re not a monster, Vincent, or a creature."

"A Daemon, then."

"No. You?re still human. Those accusations only prove it. It?s Man?s nature to hate what he is, to wish to be something more. The fact that you feel guilt and self-consciousness shows you?re human."

I go silent. Am I hearing him correctly? Is he really saying I?m not a monster? That I?m not some horrible manifestation put on Gaia for the purpose of being Death?s right hand?

"If you experience these emotions, you?re Human. Hatred, sorrow, joy?"

"Love."

Both our voices blend together in a strange melody as we speak that word at the same moment.

Our gazes meet for an hour-long second before he steps toward me again.

A second time, he lifts my chin, tipping my head back at the right angle to allow him to embrace my lips once more. This time I do not push him away, but return the hugging of rosy tiers.

Gingerly, his tongue flickers out to brush against my lips, a silent question for entrance that I answer by parting them enough.

I cannot help but moan into his mouth as his tongue slips inside, questing and caressing every inch of the hot cavern.

And this time, it is he who breaks the kiss.

I don?t know that I?ve closed my eyes until they flutter open as he pulls away. The embrace has left me breathless, invigorated? warm. At most times, I am cold. My body is a solid shell of ice encasing a soul that yearns to be free.

Perhaps now, I will be free.

I can still feel his hot breath aga my my skin, and I can hear my own.

"C-cid?" My voice shakes as I speak. "What?"

"You know, I?ve been wanting to do that for a long time." Quite honestly, I?m startled. I guess it shows because he?s chuckling. "Didn?t expect that, huh? Guess I?m just full of surprises." Then, his face shifts, the expression becoming more somber and serious. Worried. "Why was your pistol laying there? And what got you so worked up?"

Somehow I knew he?d ask.

"It?s nothing." I know. I?m skittering around the truth, hoping he?ll eventually give up.

If only I had known how persistent Cid Highwind can be.

"Really. I?m not buying that. What made you break down like you did?"

Perhaps I can tell him. Perhaps he?ll understand. Perhaps? "It?s nothing, really."

Yes, it hurts to be a coward.

"Please, Vincent. I can?t stand to see this eat away at you, whatever it is."

"Why? why do you care?" I can?t believe I let that slip.

"I care because? Vincent, I?"

In my mind I finish his sentence for him, hoping that what I wish to hear will flow from his lips like I imagine it.

"?because I love you." His voice drops in volume to a nearly inaudible tone.

At those words, I feel warmth spread through me, filing away at the stinging cold that grew itself around me like a cocoon. I shiver and look up at him, feeling hot tears well up in my tainted eyes. He pulls me against his chest, one gloved hand at the back of my head, the other arm wrapped about my waist.

Out of reflex, I stiffen slightly as he does this but soon after I calm my mind and relax within his arms. It feels so good to be held by someone again. He lowers his head to where his lips are by my ear. His breath tickles the skin as he exhales, and his words send shivers up my spine as he speaks.

"Let me show you how much I love you?"

I catch my breath at that, my eyes widening.

"Since you?re silent, I take that as a yes?"

All I can do is nod. I want to feel passion again. I want my body to explode in a fire of white-hot desire as I surrender beneath his touch.

He loops an arm around my back, hooking the other beneath my knees, and lifts me much like a groom would his bride, and carries me to the bed. With gentle hands, he settles me on the white sheets, my legs hanging over the edge, feet flat on the floor. I look up at him with a mix of fear, hesitation and love.

He gently presses his lips to mine in a sweet, short kiss, brushing a few locks of onyx silk out of my eyes.

"I promise I won?t hurt you, Vincent. I would never dream of hurting you in any way. Do? you trust me?"

"Yes?" I say it softly, in a broken whisper that betrays my passion, my love. He smiles.

He leans over me, capturing my lips in a sweet embrace before abandoning them to lay kisses along my jawline. I gasp softly as he takes my earlobe between his teeth, nibbling gently.

Gods, this is bliss.

He flickers his tongue out to gently lap at the flesh under my ear, raising a groan from my lips. He kisses his way down my neck to the beginnings of my clothing.

"You have to wear so much damn clothing, don?t you?" He chuckles, giving my chin a swift lick as he unhooks my cape from the shirt, which he soon works on unbuttoning as well. Not once while he removes the clothing from my upper torso does he break contact with my flesh?kissing, nuzzling and licking.

Finally I feel cool air on my burning flesh, and I moan softly.

He catches his breath.

Aes. es. The scars. Souvenirs from my time spent under Hojo?s care. They stand out quite well against my white skin. They?re still puffy and rose tinted, even after 30 years. Sometimes, I wake in the middle of the night to feel a pain right where they are. It disturbs me.

I can feel his fingers gently touching the horrid things. I should have warned him.

"Gods, Vince. No wonder you hate Hojo."

Shock is what I?m feeling. Shock that he isn?t pulling back and leaving me the way I am.

I can feel his lips on me, kissing the scars, trailing his tongue along their lengths. Moaning, I arch my back, claw and flesh hand alike snatching the cloth of the bed clothes and curling it about my fingers in a fist.

I feel like I?m a virgin again, and in a way, I am. I was born again when Cloud and the others woke me from my three decade long sleep. How I thank them now.

He takes one of my nipples into his moth, running his tongue in circles around it. I whisper his name, letting my eyes close, trusting him to do whatever he wishes and not harm me as he promised. And at this moment, I don?t care if he hurts me, as long as he keeps doing what he?s doing.

All the blood in my body is rushing lower, a reaction I haven?t felt in a long time.

Every time his skin touches mine in any way, jolts of electric pleasure fly through my body, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

His tongue has abandoned my right nipple and shifted to the other, leaving his callused fingers to roll it between them. I swear I?m floating. With every gasp and moan I feel lighter.

Once the nubs are hardened to his satisfaction, he begins moving lower, kissing his way down my abdomen. He lets his tongue drift over my belly, leaving a wet trail behind it on which he blows. Again, I arch my back, tossing my head. Gods it feels so good.

I can feel him unbuckling the triple belt that I wear, can hear him toss it to the floor.

"Jesus?that?s one heavy belt."

He runs his callused hands down my chest and stomach, slipping a few fingers beneath the waistband on my jeans. He gives a few tugs, looking up at me in silent questioning.

I can only nod, looking at him through half-closed eyes, my face surely flushed.

He places a gentle kiss on my navel, unbuttoning the front of the clothing and slipping it off over my bare feet. He places a hand gently against my midriff, pressing gentle circles in the flesh as he inches my boxers over my hips, taking care not to upset my erection.

He pauses a moment after tossing them aside, staring down at me with awe-struck eyes. Why I do not know. Then, letting his hand drift downward, immersing his fingers in the onyx netherhair, and finally taking my aching member into his palm.

I gasp, crimson eyes fluttering closed, instinctively bucking my hips at the contact. But a hand is there upon my hips, restricting my movement. I groan, letting my head loll to the side, my cheek resting against the smooth cloth of the bedsheets.

His pace is slow, unbearably slow, but as time wears on, his pace speeds up slightly.

And then his hand is gone from my length, placed on the other side of my hips.

A soft whimper escapes from my lips, only to be followed by a moan as he takes my member between his lips, kissing the tip before taking it in entirely. Once more, hands are on my hips, stopping me from moving. Slowly, he slides his mouth up, and then back down the thing, his tongue leading the way.

All the while, I find that I cannot fight back the sounds of pleasure that force themselves past my lips.

And at last, with a cry of his name, my body tensing, I am emptied. My crimson eyes close as my body relaxes after my release.

"There?s nothing more amazing? than watching a beautiful man as he releases. And you?re no exception, Vincent." Once more, he leans over my body, embracing my lips with his. I can taste myself on him, bitter and yet invigorating.

Slowly, my breath returns to a normal pace, though my pulse is still racing from the ordeal.

"You okay?"

"Y-yes?" I let my eyes open, looking up at him through slightly glazed eyes. "But? we?re not finished yet." I cannot help but smirk at the thought.

He blinks those baby blues of his at my comment, quirking a brow.

He yelps as I gently roll him onto his back, pressing my lips against his in a fierce kiss, enjoying his moan as I slip my hands beneath the hem of his shirt and brush against his nipples. I pull back from the kiss, noting the whimper emitting from his lips. I push his shirt up his chest, slipping it off him. Immediately I attack his chest with nips and kisses, rolling the hardened nubs between my forefinger and thumb gently, drawing a gasp from him.

I move my way down, leaving kisses behind in my wake, hand trailing behind in a teasing manner.

I pause at the top of his jeans, glancing up at him through slightly narrowed eyes, that smirk still playing on my lips. Throwing all caution to the wind, I unhook the belt and jeans using only my teeth.

I hear him groan as I blow softly on the silk boxers he wears beneath.

Gently, as though not to injure him, I trail the cold metal fingers of the golden claw down his chest.

Ah! Such ecstasy I hear in his voice as he moans at the cruel difference of temperatures!

I carefully slip the things off his hips and legs, tossing the cloth to the side among the growing pile of other clothing.

I glance up at him, noticing that his eyes are closed, his breath hitching in anticipation. Despite myself, I feel a maniacal grin spread over my features.

Now I know why I act so strangely.

Chaos.

I can already begin to feel the loss of control over myself, the loss that always comes when Chaos fights me for possession.

Gods, why now?

I curse softly, pulling away from Cid. I can?t be near him when I shift. The things hold on me this time is too much for me to hold back much longer. Stumbling back, I slip to my knees, flinching as the leathery wings of onyx break through the barrier of flesh, tearing a painful scream from my lips.

And then, only darkness.

I cannot remember the exact happenings, the events that occurred while I was unaware, taken over by my other self. All I know is that I hurt Cid. Lethally. I killed him.

To this day I regret it, ever letting myself get close to him.

And that is why I am once more within this thick-walled wooden coffin, running my flesh fingers over the smooth satin lining as I feel the horrid, year long sleep overcome me.

I am a demon, and this casing is my home.
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The Breath of an Angel

I am a demon, and this casing is my home.