Resurfacing

Around seven in the morning Cid woke up and felt the sudden urge get up and do something, and all he could think of was to start cleaning.



He wasn’t sure why; the fact he felt this sudden, unexplainable urge to clean something, ANYTHING was ridiculous, but it was there. He tried to think of something to clean that really needed it. The kitchen he did twice, including the stove and sinks. The living room was dusted, the floors swept. He worked relentlessly until nine when he decided he wanted to, more than ever, go wake up Vincent. He started up the stairs, thinking he’d never actually SEEN Vincent sleep, and he wanted to very badly. Did he curl up in his sleep? Did he hog all of the covers or was he a cocoon sleeper?



Until about three in the morning he’d stayed up, thinking all kinds of things that kept him awake. Cid had never been one to think about these kinds of things before, not even about Shera. He couldn’t tell the next door neighbor way day her birthday was, cept he knew it was in march somewhere. He didn’t really care about what kind of perfume she wore because it never really mattered to him to find out. That wasn’t the case with Vincent. He realized, around when he’d finished scrubbing out the oven for the second time, he knew nothing about the other man, except his favorite colors were black and red and he loved sushi, if he remembered correctly.All of these things that he didn’t know suddenly mattered more to him than anything else.



The door to Vincent’s room slowly creaked open, the faint shaft of light falling across the gunman’s sleeping form. It was still dark in the room, but Cid could see the pale glow of Vincent’s skin against the blue of the blanket covering him. Vincent was normally a light sleeper, but practically slept in a coma when he was really, REALLY tired...or drunk, he remembered drunk. “Hey....Vince?” His voice barely came out a whisper as he brushed a hand against the naked shoulder of the arm above the covers, sitting as gently as he could by the gunman’s side.

Vincent lay on his side, curled up slightly as he tightly held the spare pillow to the bed in his arms. His face, naturally calm in waking hours, looked peaceful, his long, black eyelashes resting against his cheekbones. His gentle breathing was the only indication he was alive, his pitch black hair pooling around his face and off the side of the bed. Cid couldn’t help but stare as he gently leaned over the sleeping form, trying to take everything in all at once. He always knew Vincent was beautiful, and the deep stirring in his gut he got every time he looked at him confirmed that.

“Cid...”

The pilot grabbed at his chest, nearly jumping off of the bed as his name was barely whispered out of the sleeping form. “JESUS Vince, you scared the living day lights out of me. Bout time you woke....up?..Vince?” Cid leaned down, staring intently at the face below him in the dark. Vincent was still fast asleep, a small smile on his pale pink lips. “Vince?” Cid didn’t have much time to react as Vincent rolled over onto his back, his arms latching around the blonde’s neck, pulling him down into a tight grip. “UMPH ...V-Vince?...Vincent?...VINCENT...oy.” Cid sighed, dropping his arms to either side of the gunman to hold his weight up.



“..C...Cid?”



“Yeah, Vince, I’m here...and I sure ain’t going anywhere til you wake up or I stop breathing, which I REALLY hope you wake up first.” Cid snorted softly to himself as he felt the grip around hm grow tighter, his face being pushed further into the soft skin of the gunman’s neck. ‘On the other hand,’ he thought, ‘this would definitely be a good way to go.’ He shifted himself further up into the bed and let himself get comfortable. Shera was a late sleeper, thank the ancients, and even if she did walk in on the two of them...well, he’d figure it out if that happened.


The sun was rising the rest in the sky before Vincent’s eyes flitted open, then quickly shut them again with a soft curse. “Unnnnnnnnh...what time is it?”



“Almost ten.”



Vincent almost jumped out of his skin as the muffled voice spoke up somewhere under his chin. He looked down, seeing a head full of sandy blonde hair. “Cid?” His grip on the pilot loosened, and he sat up, Cid halfway falling into his lap. “What are you doing in my room?”



“Came to wake you up, tried to shake you awake and you leech latched onto me. Not that I MIND, of course, but...” Cid just grinned, sitting back up as he straightened up his clothing. Vincent just shook his head and smiled slightly as the pilot tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear.



“Cid?”



“Yeah?” the man couldn’t help but stare at the figure before him, Vincent beautiful no matter what light he was in.



“Why do you smell like Pinesol?” He wondered why the room smelled like it, and Cid reeked of the stuff. It just wasn’t a smell he was used to around the blonde. He tried to sit all the way up before he was interrupted by the soft kiss that landed on his lips, and he tasted smoke and cinnamon tea. Vincent just smiled into the kiss, returning it as best he could in his half asleep state.



Cid smiled himself as he watched the dark haired man try to wake up. Vincent yawned and flashed Cid a small, but impressive, pair of canines Cid didn’t know he had. “I’m trying to clean my act up for you. Now get up- I’ve got something for you an’ me to do.”



“Alright...as long as you do something for me first.”



“Name it.”



“Kiss me again.”



Cid smiled up at the brunette with a slight chuckle. “Yessir.”

*****************************

The dust from the boxes as they hit the floor settled in the small room that was the garage. Vincent didn’t know how old they were, as Cid tossed them out of the attic one by one, but the fact that they were so dusty gave him a good idea. Several of them had been crushed in by the weight of another sitting on top of it, some torn because of rain rot. “And exactly what are we doing today, cid?” Vincent wrinkled his nose up as some of the dust raised up into his nose, causing him to sneeze.



Cid held in a chuckle as he heard Vincent sneeze in the room below. Cid would never tell the gunman, but he kind of sounded like a baby chocobo when he did. “We’re doing a little bit of last minute spring cleaning, that’s what.”



“Spring cleaning...in September.” Vincent raised an eyebrow as Cid jumped off of the ladder, sending more dust flying everywhere as he landed. “I think your internal calender is a little off there, chief.”



“Hah, hah, hah. Smart ass. No, this morning I just felt like doin' something, and all I could think of was cleaning. Hell if I know why, I just did. Got the kitchen done, cleaned the oven twice, and after that I decided to wake you up to help me work on the attic, get her all clean and straightened out. That way when she’s clean I can use her again.” Cid took a rag from his back pocket, wiping his hands on it. That morning he just threw on the first thing he found in the corner of his room, which happened to be the pants he wore to the bar a few weeks ago, a black tank top and his pair of boots. He’d thought it’d been a bad idea at first to wear something quite as tight as the pants to clean out the attic, but when he’d seen the faint smile on Vincent’s face that morning he’d promptly changed his mind. Vincent stood there in front of him, that same smile lifting to his face as his eyes roamed back over Cid’s body.



“Use her for what, praytell?”



“Well, the first time she was just for storage, but I’ve got a whole collection of antique books up there that were my daddy’s that I keep protected. Thought maybe about bringing them down into the house and re-reading them. THESE,” he motioned to the boxes as he sat down by one of them, “I THINK have stuff from when I first settled here in town. Maybe a few things my Mama would’ve thrown in, baby pictures and stuff.” He opened up the first box and pulled out a few piles of papers which he casually tossed to the ground. Following them came an old photo album, or so Vincent gathered, as Cid opened it with a curious expression and a chuckle. “DAMN. C’mere, Vince.”



Vincent, cautious but curious by nature, walked over and sat down next to Cid. It was a photo album, and the very first few pictures were a couple standing side by side next to the wheel well of an older air ship. The woman was tall and slender with long, straight hair. She was smiling in it, and the smile was the same gentle one Cid bore on rare occasions...or when he was looking at Vincent. The man, only slightly taller than the wife, looked almost exactly like Cid, except his eyes were green instead of blue and his hair was a brighter blonde, like Cloud’s. “These are your parents?”



“Yeah. My mama’s name was Lilian and I was named after my daddy, so technically my last name ends in ‘Jr.’, though no one really knows that. If I remember right this is a picture from when they were first working together on the air ship that’s behind them. Well, I guess working together means gettin’ together in some ways.” Cid smiled up at Vincent with a wink. He flipped the page and the same couple from before were now at wedding ceremony, the man grinning broadly and the woman in his arms smiling brightly over very familiar blue eyes. Cid handed Vincent the photo album over as he continued digging through the first box, muttering to himself.



Vincent was more than happy to flip through the album. He said he wanted to learn more about the man he had such a huge infatuation with, and this would be the best way. He saw the couple go from friends to lovers to married lovers, the woman in a graduation cap and gown, the man in the same pilot gear Cid wore during the meteor days. The page he flipped next showed the same woman, this time with a wrapped up baby in her arms. She looked tired but happy as her husband, Cid’s father, sat beside her proudly. The baby she held in her arms had hair so blonde it was almost white. Below it was another picture of said baby Cid laying in a basinet, looking very, very angry.



As Vincent continued flipping the pages they showed the baby aging, at times smiling the Highwind smile Vincent was so used to by now and other times the frown. He closed the album, setting it to the side. He’d look at it later, he mused, when he had time to himself. He turned back to Cid and watched as the pilot kept digging through a large box, cursing at intervals. “Cid?”



“What? OW, DAMMIT God-damn-son-of-a-bitch-fuckin’-peice-of-shit-bit-me!”



Vincent rolled his eyes but said nothing else as he stood and walked over to the attic ladder, nimbly climbing up it with no effort. The attic was dimly lit and just as dusty as the boxes they held, but it was sturdy and cool. “I can see how one could spend all day in here...if it wasn’t a dust brothel.” He snorted to himself as he wandered around the room, his feet barely making noise on the floor. There were plenty of boxes to be sure, and off in one corner a bookshelf that was draped over with plastic and tied closed. “Those must be the books...” His words trailed off as his eyes landed on something on the far wall, and his mouth dropped open as his eyes got bigger.



Cid was just digging through another box when his name was yelled out louder than he’d ever heard it, even when Yuffie used to yell at him. He dropped the antique china plate that was in his hand, hearing it break as he darted up the attic stairs, breathing a mile a minute as he stopped behind Vincent and took the thinner man in his arms. “What what what what WHAT?!” Vincent pointed at the far wall, his finger resting on an object there. Cid squinted through the dusty darkness. “....It’s a gun.”



“Uh huh.”



“You called me up here like a man dyin', with me nearly having a goddamn heart attack, just to show me my daddy’s old hunting rifle?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Cid rolled his eyes as he shook his head, his temper rising in the small room. “I thought you were DYING!”



“I could be. CID, don’t you know what that gun IS?!”



“....a gun?”



“That’s not just any gun! That’s a Smith and Weston double barrel long range hunting rifle made over fifty years ago! Only two hundred and fifty were made...ever. And you have one in your attic...IN YOUR ATTIC!” Vincent turned and grabbed Cid’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “You have a Smith and Weston EXALTED brand rifle IN YOUR ATTIC!!!”



Cid looked up at the normally calm but now excited face above him, just smiling and shaking his head. “It’s just a gun.”



“That’s like saying the SHERA is ‘just a plane’. You of all people should know better than that.” Vincent scowled, trying to get his point across.



“Vincent.”



“WHAT?!”



“Do you want it?”



It took the gunman’s mind a moment to register what the pilot had said, and he stood there, staring at him blankly. “What?”



“DO...YOU...WANT..IT?” Cid couldn’t help but smile at the shocked look that came into Vincent’s face as the gunman stared down at him. “I mean, it’s just a gun to me...and I don’t use it, and I’d rather you have it and put it to use than have it hang up here, gettin’ all rusty and takin’ up space. So, do you wanna just stare at it or do you want it?”



“...Desperately.”



“Then it’s your-..” Cid was cut off as Vincent silenced him with a firm kiss to the mouth, and he could feel himself being pushed back against the nearest wall, firm hands trailing themselves down his body as the kiss deepened. Cid let out a small gasp as he felt himself hit the wall, another one let out as he felt Vincent take that opportunity to slide his tongue into the pilot’s mouth. He could feel the wet muscle slide against his own and he moaned into it as Vincent pressed his own body against Cid’s. Hands trailed up and down his body, fingertips delicately running over his chest and down his arms, and another moan was pulled from him as the hands ran up under his shirt, teasing the soft flesh over the firm muscles there.



Against his better judgement he closed his eyes, savoring the smell and the taste of the man above him as he lifted his hands, placing them on the small of Vincent’s back. He was enjoying the moment, but he didn’t know how far he could go with the taller man’s body yet, so he kept his hands there and played with the black hair he loved so much. Cid hadn’t been kissed like this since his younger days in the training academy at Shinra. Granted, he’d been drunk that night and while he didn’t remember the girl he was with the next day the memory of this kind of kissing hadn’t faded a bit. Vincent, he discovered to his delight, was a very, VERY good kisser. His lips were softly brushing over Cid’s own, nibbling slightly on his lips as their tongues bathed each other, both men too lost in the moment to notice what it was doing to their bodies. The hands underneath his shirt were running through his sparse chest hair, pulling little moans and sighs from the pilot.

Cid reluctantly pulled away and tried to catch his breath as his hands squeezed around Vincent’s small waist, a smile on his lips. The gunman wasn’t stopping his barrage of affection and, Cid gathered, gratitude, kissing Cid’s forehead, his neck, his collar bone, his shoulders, any bit of flesh he could reach without kneeling for it. “D...Damn, Vince...you’re welcome.”



Vincent finally stopped and rested his body against Cid’s as the two men caught their breath. His hands were still under Cid’s shirt and he rested them there, savoring the warmth the pilot’s skin radiated. In all honesty, he’d only meant to give the pilot a kiss kiss, not a peck on the lips like he did the other day. He didn’t know it would turn out like this, Cid being too willing to submit to his hands, pushed up against the wall, spread legged and breathing hard. He could feel Cid’s impressive erection against his own , and he allowed a soft moan to escape from him before red eyes met sky blue ones. Vincent smiled, never breaking eye contact as he kissed Cid again and ran his hands down Cid’s chest to rest on his hips. “MMmm, Mr. Highwind, you are simply decadent.”



“Thanks..”



“Enjoying yourself?”



“Bet your ass.” Cid took full liberty to now drop his hands from Vincent’s waist to cup each ass cheek, squeezing gently. “DAMN Vince, you DO have a nice ass. Run a lot?”



“We should not do this here.”



“Probably not.” He looked around the dusty room in agreement, only now thinking about what would have happened if Shera had walked in.

“And we should not do anything more than this today, as much as I want to disagree with myself.” Vincent ignored the frown of protest Cid gave him. “No, no more than this...we still do not know each other very well, and this...” he pressed his body against Cid’s in emphasis, “is not a product of our hearts, but our hormones. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to BE hurt, especially, but I want us to be like this one day when I see love in your eyes instead of lust, if that day ever comes.” Vincent kissed Cid again on the lips, then on the forehead before he rested his own there, looking down into those sky blue eyes he loved. “Until that day comes, I will suffer as you suffer and learn with you about each other. Agreed?”



Cid looked up at those red eyes so full of seriousness, unwavering in their nerve. “Sure.” He gave a small smile as he slid to the floor and sat down as Vincent slid down the wall to sit with him, hands still resting on the flesh of Cid’s chest. Both men sat there in the dusty room, listening to each other breathe as Vincent’s face took its usual roost in the crook of Cid’s neck, kissing the flesh there. The pilot idly wrapped an arm around Vincent’s waist and pulled him closer to his side, closing his eyes. “Ya know what?”



“What?”



“The Beatles were right.”



Vincent said nothing about the off-the-wall comment, but merely asked “About what?”



“Happiness IS a warm gun, at least in your case.”



“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

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AN- sorry that I haven't had a chance to update sooner. We got got a baby pomeranian and much like any baby or fanfic, it takes time to get used to, especially when it loves biting your ankles (the puppy, not the fanfic).

I'll update soon. ~Dreams

Edited 3/10/08