What Friends are For

Chapter 4 of 'What Friends are For'

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'What Friends are For' Chapter 4: Holding Hands
Cid makes Vincent an offer he can't refuse. [WAFF, HJ, Oral, Yaoi]

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I woke up with a yawn, still feeling a bit groggy. I tried to move, and it wasn't until I felt him shiver and make a soft noise of protest that I remembered that who was in bed with me. My eyes flew open, and I froze, suddenly very, very awake.

'Vince is laying next to me,' my mind whispered in disbelief. He was still facing me, and I couldn't help but stare. Sure, I'd seen him sleeping plenty of times, but never this close, and certainly not this peaceful. The closest I'd ever come was when I snuck into his room to make the mold of his gauntlet's lock, but I was too nervous then to really enjoy it.

Of course, this time there was something else keeping me from giving Vince my full attention. I bit back a curse, eased out of bed as carefully as I could, and went into the bathroom to take care of business.

By the time I returned, Vince had rolled onto his back. This time I sat beside him with my back against the wall, and I could take the time to look at him. It's hard to believe that just yesterday, I'd been sitting in this same spot, and the man in his bed was telling me about a gift. Sometimes time gets a little screwed up when we're flying all over the world with the odd jobs people come to us for - after all, we're the only freelance airborne transportation out there these days.

But sometime in that short span, everything had changed for us. We love each other. We want each other. I don't even consider the thought that it might all be a dream - I don't think I could stand it if it was. 'Only yesterday...'

I couldn't stop staring. I knew it, but I didn't care. He was too beautiful for his own good, with his pale skin framed by the dark hair that draped over the pillow he'd stolen from me sometime during the night. His left arm was tucked under it; I'd seen him do that every time he slept. He gripped whatever he laid his head on with his claw, so he wouldn't cut anything with it - like himself. His right arm was above the blanket on his chest, leaving his shoulders bare. Even on that small amount of skin showing, I could see the scars. The urge to lean down and taste every bit of him was strong enough to make me ache.

He had a stray lock over his face, draping close to his eyes. Touching as softly as I could, I brushed it back, and tucked it behind his ear. I let my fingertips stray to his cheek, following the line of the bone, then across his brow to trace the bridge of his nose. I touched his lips then, softly, remembering what it was like to hiss him, how red and swollen they were yesterday from the kisses, and how they looked parted as he panted for breath.

Yeah, I have to admit. I have a thing for Vince's lips. They looked like they could be expressive if he'd just let them, instead of keeping himself on such a short leash. Kinda like his eyes, such a clear crystalline red that shone a bit from the mako treatments he was given a lifetime ago. They were open finally, watching me as I watched him, and I felt him smile against my fingers.

"Good morning," he murmured. "If I did not know better, I would think you were going soft on me."

I shook my head and grinned a bit. "Around you, Vince, I'm anything but." I think by now he took the teasing in stride, as a sign of affection. It's been a long time since it offended him.

"Ahh," he replied, closing his eyes. "Yuffie was correct. You truly are a dirty old man." His right hand moved to my knee and gave a light tug. "Now come back. It is cold without you."

I don't think any sane man on earth could resist that invitation - I know I sure as hell couldn't. With a laugh, I worked my way beneath the covers, and down the bed until I was stretched out next to him, on my side again. He had pulled his arm from beneath the pillow and held it up now, staring at the hand while he flexed his fingers.

I touched the curve of his elbow, and brushed soft circles there. "Does it still hurt?" I asked, glancing up at his hand.

Vince lay silent for a moment, staring at the appendage. "It aches," he replied. "But not a bad ache. Much like a well-exercised muscle, I think."

We laid there for a little while, both of us watching as he worked the muscles in his wrist and fingers, getting them used to moving without the metal surrounding them. I think it was the first time he'd taken off the gauntlet since I first gave him the key, and a guilty part of me couldn't help but feel glad for that. Not because of the pain, I'd have given anything to take that away, but because he let me be here for something so private. He wanted me there when he was hurting. I hoped I wouldn't make him regret it.

I slid my fingers up his forearm slowly, keeping the pressure soft. His hand stilled, and I could feel him shake slightly, but he didn't pull away. I moved my touch to the front of his wrist, pausing there for a moment; I could feel the beat of his pulse through his skin, and i could tell his pulse was quickening. With a smile, I let my fingers drift higher, over his palm, to tuck beneath his own fingers and force them upward until our hands could rest flat against each other.

"Still tender?" I asked quietly - as if I needed to. He was shivering more now, though I could tell he wasn't hurting.

He nodded slightly, turning his head to look at me. "A little," he replied. "Though not as much as before. Perhaps leaving it out overnight helped."

"Perhaps," I repeated in agreement. I shifted to lace my fingers between his own, giving a gentle squeeze, and after a soft gasp, he returned the one-handed embrace. It was hard to ignore the catch in his breath, or the way he shook slightly against me. "Vince... Will ya let me try somethin'?"

He was quiet for a moment, until I met his eyes, and that secretive smile curled at his lips. "The last time you made that offer, you returned to me something I thought was forever gone," he replied. "How could I say no?"

I could feel myself mirroring his smile, and I nodded, then sat up. My grip didn't loosen though, and I could tell it had an effect on him, especially when I used it to pull his hand closer and give the back a kiss. "Ya showed me how to fly," I whispered, giving him a smile. "So now it's my turn ta show ya how ta touch."

His eyes widened slightly, before they snapped shut with a gasp as I brushed my lips over the back of his hand. My thumb caught his and gently pulled it aside, stretching the skin between. I traced the edge of it with the tip of my tongue, and was rewarded with a tightening of his grip on mine. My lips closed over the soft webbing between his thumb and forefinger, holding it there as I listened to the low sound of surprised delight he made.

I was determined to draw more from him. I sucked at the bit of flesh I held, treating it like a particularly savory treat, tongue lapping at it teasingly, then giving a firm caress. Even this part of him had that unique taste I was already associating with him; the fact that he reacted so strongly only made it so much better.

"Cid... Please..." he gasped, and I couldn't help but smile. When I pulled back, I let my teeth scrape softly over his tender skin, which brought a shudder from him. I moved to slip the tip of my tongue under his index finger, and guided it into my mouth. It was a sensual thing to do to begin with; as sensitive as he was, it was so much better, it made Vince much more responsive. I curled my tongue around the length of his finger and sucked at it like a straw, giving the base a nibble with my teeth. The noise that escaped was full of demanding and pleasure.

That was what I had been waiting for. I watched him steadily, still keeping him imprisoned by my mouth, as my free hand moved to the blanket he was clutching with his right hand to give it a tug. His eyes opened slightly to look up at me, and he smiled - not that half-hidden secretive expression, but a true, outright smile. He let go of the blankets, and I pulled them down to pool around his knees. His hand then clutched at the sheet beside him, keeping it in a death-grip, and he closed his eyes once more. It was his way of giving me all the permission I needed, without either of us saying a word.

I stared over him for a moment, drinking in the sight of his body. He was riddled with scars everywhere, both from battles and a mad scientist's twisted experiments, but I didn't mind. It made him seem so much more human, instead of the flawless, untouchable being I once saw him as. I traced his marks with my fingers, following the erratic path over his chest, pausing only to tease over his nipples. That made him gasp and arch slightly; my hand met him, giving one of the buds a tweak, rolling it between my fingertips and tugging it gently.

My mouth abandoned his hand, though I kept it gripped with my own, and I leaned down to flick my tongue over the neglected nipple. I caught it between my teeth to nibble and suckle, treating it a little more roughly than I had his finger. He groaned low in his throat, almost a growl, and I felt his hand on my head as if trying to grip my hair, and for once I regretted the close cut I kept.

I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and left his chest to trail kisses down his torso, brushing my lips and tongue over the myriad scars that decorated him. When I reached his navel, I paused to nibble the flesh around the cavity, then flicked my tongue inside. By then, he was squirming, and less than silent, making little pleading sounds somewhere in the back of his throat, and I loved it. I absolutely loved that I could do that to that man, my Vince. And when I moved my head a little more, I could see something even better.

His erection was straining against the silken boxers he wore beneath his clothing - black, like everything else he wore, besides that cape. I could see it throb with his heartbeat, even beneath the soft material, and there was a spot around the tip where the cloth had darkened from his leaking. Before Vince, I'd never been interested in another guy, never been that close to one - hell, never wanted to be. And yet, when I saw his aching need, I felt this sudden craving, almost a hunger, to know what that hidden flesh tasted like. My left hand finally left Vince's chest and moved down. I lifted the waistband of his shorts up, then along his thighs; he lifted his hips up so I could get the boxers pulled away and downward.

If either of us had any doubts or reservations, they were long gone by that point. His left hand was still held in my right, and his right was on my head, kneading at my scalp. I laid my cheek on the curve of his hip, inches away from his cock, and stared at the first one I'd seen other than my own. I didn't really have much comparison, but like the rest of him, I thought it was perfect. It was reddened from his hardness, almost looking bruised, and the smooth tip glistened where precum had coated his skin.

I curled my fingers around his shaft; he was hot to the touch, almost feverish. As I stroked him slowly, I marveled at the difference between his member and my own - so similar, and yet not. It was like holding hot satin wrapped around a steel pole that was quickly growing slick with the juices oozing from his tip. He writhed as I teased him, arching upward to meet the strokes of my hand without trying to hurry me; I think we both wanted to take our time.

And yet, before I knew it, his flared head was between my lips, and I was lapping away the droplets that leaked forth. It didn't taste as bad as I thought, not something I could easily describe - though I knew I could definitely get used to it. I suckled softly at his tip as my hand continued its stroking, milking him into my mouth, drawing him past my lips a little at a time. His grip tightened around my hand, and he flexed his fingers into my hair; I could feel his muscles twitching beneath me, and I knew he was trying to control himself.

My hand slid from his length to cup his sac, rolling the two orbs inside between my fingers, giving them a tug. At the same time, I dipped my head down, embedding him in my mouth until the pressure of his tip nudging my throat made me swallow out of reflex. Apparently that was the right thing to do; Vince arched up with a choked cry.

"Oh, gods, Cid," he gasped, then whimpered, shaking beneath me as I swallowed him down, refusing to let him go even though I was running short on breath. My tongue and throat worked to massage every inch of him while I followed the reflexive movements of his hips with my head, lips staying wrapped firmly around his base. "Please, I cant--"

He didn't last much longer than that, whimpering and squirming, pressing into my mouth with an urgency that almost choked me, but I didn't care. I had his moans in my ears and his skin under my hands and his taste in my mouth, and that's all I needed, until he came with my name falling from his lips like a caress. His shaft pulsed against my tongue, and I could feel his seed flowing into my throat in heavy spurts. I pulled back to catch my breath, just as the flow was fading, letting me catch some on my tongue and lap it away, savoring his taste.

I did my best to draw out every drop; it wasn't the best flavor in the world, but it was Vince's, and that made all the difference. I kept him there until his breathing slowed, simply cradling him in my mouth, until I pulled away with a gentle kiss to the tip of his softening length, letting it droop over his belly. I scooted up then, to lay against Vince's side and rest my cheek on his shoulder.

His scarlet eyes cracked open to stare at me half-lidded, and I felt a warm rush at the satisfaction and contentment I saw there. Leaning up just enough, I stole a kiss, giving his bottom lip a nip before laying back again. "So," I murmured - it amused me a bit to hear my voice a little raspier than usual - "was it--"

"Cid," he sighed, interrupting me, "if you dare to say that ridiculous line once more, I truly will throw you from the airship - and this time, I would not catch you."

I laughed at that and shook my head; I didn't think he'd really do it, but I didn't want to push my luck. "Sorry, Vince, I can't help teasin' ya." My head turned just enough, and I kissed at his shoulder.

"I promise, next time you may tease to your heart's content," Vince said with his own soft laugh. "But right now I am trying to enjoy my afterglow. I have not had one in a while."

"Not since before--" I stopped myself, not wanting to finish the question, but he nodded anyway.

"Indeed," he replied. "A few years before, actually. As a Turk, any potential partner only saw the suit and the prestige that went with it." He sighed, shaking his head, then turned to face me. He didn't have to pull too hard to get me to move closer. "To be the lover of a Turk was to be somebody. Even though most of us were nobodies inside the suits." His right arm moved to drape over my side, knowing I was listening to every word. He'd long ago admitted he considered me a friend, and we'd grown close. But he didn't often talk about his past.

Vince closed his eyes and rest his forehead against mine. "Some enjoy it, being able to find a different partner every week - or every night, if one wished. Other than a fling with a friend when I was younger, I have not been with anyone. Nor have I been interested enough to invite someone into my bed - other than Lucrecia, who was too involved in her work to accept. Nor did I wish to accept an invitation into another's." He paused, smiling slightly, the hand at my back sliding over bare flesh, making me shiver. Once more, he cupped the back of the my head, feeling the short-cropped hair on his fingers. "Until now."

My left hand slid upward to mimic his hold, curling through his much longer hair. Our hands were still clasped between us, and I gave his a squeeze. "You know, Vince, even though I feel bad that ya didn't have much before... Part of me is glad. It feels like I can give ya somethin' special. I know I shouldn't be, but--"

He stopped me with a kiss, tender and short. "Do not feel bad; I would say the same. Though most of what I know of sex comes from... 'that sick bastard,' I believe you call him... I do know enough to realize what you did for me is not sex." He stilled my impending argument with another kiss, replacing his lips with a fingertip to prevent me from speaking yet. "It was a sexual act, yes. But there was too much there - for both of us - for it to be only sex. Am I wrong?"

Vince waited until I shook my head, and he smiled. "I did not think so. Then come, and we shall go flying again." He wasted no time in untangling himself from me and replacing his boxers, then climbed out of the bed. I was still trying to think of a response to that as i watched him pick up his pants, the leather now waterlogged by the melted snow.

Tender loving moments aside, I still had... well... something that needed to be taken care of. "Vince, not to sound rude or anythin', but--"

"Do not worry, Cid," Vince interrupted as he replaced the metal gauntlet, flexing his fingers as it locked into place. "You will not be disappointed." He paused, and moved over to where the I sat on the edge of the bed, and gave me another light kiss; it was all I could do to avoid grabbing him and dragging him into bed again. "Now, please, get dressed, and ask your crew to take us to flying altitude. They will understand. I have a reason for doing this, which I will explain later."

It was the same promise - and the same asking of trust - that I had made weeks ago, on the day I gave Vincent back his hand. My body argued, demanding they stay; it wanted satisfaction now. But I ignored it, and nodded to the man I loved. "I'll meet ya in the hold, then."

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I all but stomped into the bridge and up to Junior, who stood at the controls. "What's this about Vince an' this 'flyin' altitude'?" I demanded, glaring at the my assistant.

"He finally told you about that, huh, Cap'n? Took him long enough," my second replied, even as he gave the orders to raise to the Highwind upward. "It started when you and he and all those other weirdos were doing the save-the-world thing. Outta nowhere, he started coming in late at night, when everyone's asleep, and ask us to go as high as we can, wait five minutes, then come back down." He shrugged, grinned slightly. "Said he liked to fly, but if anyone was looking for him, we didn't know what happened. Never knew what he did, or why, and it seemed harmless enough. 'Sides, he was always in a better mood the next day."

That made me pause. Vince had been doing this since then, and nobody ever found out? There were times when nobody could seem to find him, or mornings when he'd look tired but still refreshed. It was odd, yeah - but after all, it was Vincent, who was already odd enough to begin with. What's a little more strangeness?

For some reason, that though made me hurt for my Vince... and made me feel guilty, that I paid so little attention back then.

"If it makes you feel any better, Cap'n," Junior said, interrupting my thoughts, "he's been doing it less. Yesterday was the first time in weeks. We always knew when those other guys were around and you'd all come back talking about some huge fight or big thing going on, that he'd be up to ask us again." He gave another shrug, and turned back to the controls. "Never told us what he was doing, we never asked. But I'll tell you this - he's never done it two days in a row."

That was definitely food for thought, and made me wonder about Vince. I thanked Junior, and headed down to the cargo hold.