Sinful Reconcilaition

Vincent sat in his room and read for a few hours, less because he wanted to, and more because he simply wished to avoid the rest of Avalanche as they stumbled out of their beds vomiting, reeling, pissing, and swearing never to imbibe the source of their agony again. After faintly hearing each member return to bed, determined to slumber through the rest of the day, he decided it would be safe to venture out of his den and into the common room. As he pushed the creaking door open he was greeted not with the stench of alcohol, but with the light and pleasant aroma of tea. Its source became immediately apparent to him as he continued into the spotless room. Cid was slouching at the table with his head in his arms, a pot of tea and a half empty cup in front of him. Realizing the effort Cid must have put into cleaning the rest of the room, Vincent decided to apologize for his earlier misconduct. He sat silently next to the pilot and reached towards his shoulder to rouse him from his somewhat awkward and silent slumber.

The gunman’s arm, however, froze mere inches from its target as the previously peaceful Cid let out a low, guttural moan. The sound was barely audible, but enough to cause Vincent at least momentary alarm. He quickly retracted his arm and began to blush as Cid continued to vocalize in his dream state.

“Mmmm….unh….oh god….Vinnnn….”

Vincent suddenly lost control and began to chuckle silently. Cid’s somewhat risqué and unintentional admission came as no surprise to him. The pilot’s shaky demeanor may have escaped everyone else’s notice, but Vincent’s Turk training picked up on all of the little abnormalities in his behavior when Cid found himself knowingly in the gunman’s presence. While previously for Cid’s own sake Vincent chose to keep his discovery a secret, hearing the man moaning his name in his sleep encouraged his mischievous side.

At dinner time that evening the members of Avalanche managed to collect themselves in the common room one last time, looking a little tired but no more worse for wear. Conversation was light as they ate in rather uncomfortable silence. Their imminent parting was beginning to show. It didn’t matter how much time they spent away from each other, when Avalanche reconvened, everything seemed to fit together perfectly. While some of them kept in constant contact with each other, like Yuffie and Tifa, it was still rather difficult to say goodbye.

“So, Cid, where are you going next?” Tifa asked tentatively to break the silence.

“Hell, I don’t know. I don’t really wanna go back to rot in Rocket Town, but there ain’t any more adventures for me. I guess maybe I’ll see if anyone wants a ride home in my ship and I’ll decide what to do after that.”

“I’d like to take you up on that offer Cid, but I have some friends I’ll be visiting on my way home,” Tifa responded.

While her attempt at sparking conversation held some merit, the last thing anyone wanted to talk about was going home. No one else spoke through the rest of the meal, except to ask for some food or condiment to be passed to their end of the table. Afterwards they all returned just as silently to their rooms with heavy stomachs and heavy hearts.

Cid sat in his room and smoked while he went through a mental list of everything he needed to do before leaving the next day. If it weren’t so damn cold, he’d have elected to stay at the inn for a few more nights. As it was, he wouldn’t be taking anyone home in his airship, much to his dismay. The simple task and the company it would have afforded him would certainly help ease his loneliness. He had hoped that someone would take him up on his offer, and deep down he had hoped that someone would be Vincent. At this revelation, Cid’s thoughts drifted to the gunman and the pleasurable situation he had dreamt him in earlier. Almost immediately his pants became uncomfortably tight.