What Friends are For

'What Friends are For' Chapter 6: Invitations
Cid and Vincent get an invitation to dinner, and Vince makes an invitation of his own. [Oral, WAFF, Yaoi, Mild language, a little anal play, and a slight touch of S&M for flavor.]

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Junior was at the door waiting for us when we boarded the Highwind. I saw him arch an eyebrow at Vince's appearance, but he didn't comment, merely handed me the keys with a 'welcome back'. I glanced at my second in command with a piercing look; apparently he had known more about Vincent's excursions than he had let on. I was definitely gonna have a talk with him later.

"Miss Lockheart called again, Cap'n," my assistant said, interrupting my thoughts. "She said she wanted to invite you to dinner to repay you for the help yesterday, and that the runt misses you." 'The runt' being Marlene - Tifa usually watched over the kid when Barret was away. Junior paused, smiling. "I told her you were out on an errand, but that I'd pass the message. I took the liberty of asking if the invitation was extended to Mister Valentine. She said yes, though she seemed surprised to know he was with us."

I sighed sighed, and shook my head. "Junior, sometimes ya sound more like my butler than a pilot, y'know? What time is it now?"

"About two hours shy of sunset for the Midgar area, Cap'n," the uniformed man answered, letting the butler comment pass. "We're pretty far south, though it should only take an hour to get there."

"A'right," I responded. "We're gonna go get cleaned up. Go let Tifa know we'll be there around seven."

"Aye, Cap'n," Junior replied, pausing to give a smart salute before running up the stairs.

It took a moment for me to remember who I just answered for - even under the best circumstances, Vincent wasn't much of one for socializing. I turned to the still-bloody man, feeling like an ass. "Ah, shit, Vince, I didn't think to ask ya--"

"It is all right, Cid," he replied. "I do not mind. Besides, I am often famished after one of Chaos' feedings. Even though it is his form, it is still my body, and he uses quite a bit of energy when he... eats." Vince shrugged his shoulders, and I couldn't help but stare at the movement of muscles beneath the bare skin. Damn, but the man just keeps getting more and more irresistible. "Come," he, motioning with his clawed hand. "I think I could use a shower."

Well, there went my imagination again, and I closed my eyes, shuddering. The sound of retreating footsteps brought me back to reality, and I hurried to follow.

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I sat on the toilet with the lid down, legs propped up with my boots on the wall in front of me. I'd insisted Vince come use my shower - it was larger than the one in the guest quarters. He didn't put up too much of a fight, and we had stopped by his room long enough for me to grab some clothes. He let me carry them, since he was still covered in monster.

The fact that I could watch Vince wash himself through the smoky, almost-transparent glass was an added bonus.

"You were tryin' to say goodbye to me today, weren't ya?" I asked, staring at my boots where they rest on the wall. "Before we landed, I mean. Ya thought I'd leave ya." It'd been troubling me since Chaos withdrawn, and I had heard the defeated tone in Vince's voice.

There was silence, broken only by the hiss of water and the faint gurgle as it drained away; Vincent's movements paused. "In a way, yes. None have ever seen me in such a state. Though I feared it would push you from me, I could no longer hide it from you."

"Ya did it for a long time, why not keep on?" I wondered aloud. "I mean, I'm not sayin' I wish ya would'a keept hidin' it. But why now?"

"Because of you," the gunslinger replied softly. "What would you have thought when you awoke to a cold, empty bed, and went searching for me, only to find I am nowhere on your ship - and then to see me return in the state I was in earlier, covered in the remains of a demon's kills? It would have happened eventually, and I could not do that to you."

I shivered; he was right. I'd have been less calm and understanding if it would've happened like that. And yet, it still amazed me that the normally withdrawn and secretive man was willing to show me that part of his life.

"What's it like?" I asked, tapping one foot absently against the wall. I craved a cigarette, but I knew the Vince didn't like the smoke - it'd be even worse in the small area. "The changin', I mean. I've never asked ya that, though I've wondered."

"Mm. It is difficult to describe," Vincent replied, before returning to his task. The sticky blood was finally gone, and he had busied himself with lathering away the grime with soap and a soft cloth. The golden gauntlet still covered his right arm; he'd long ago gotten used to showering with it on, and he didn't think he could handle the constant stimulation from the shower's spray. After a moment, he spoke again, trying to describe something he took for granted.

"It is like a scab on a healing wound," he said finally. "At first, it is ignored, but as time passes, it begins to itch. The itch grows worse, more intense, until eventually, it can no longer be neglected, and must be scratched." I heard a sigh from the shower stall, and glanced over; even with the figure inside mostly obscured, I could see the him leaning against the wall. "And when it is scratched, there is pain, as it peels away to leave the wound raw and bleeding. It is a relief, but there is soreness, and guilt knowing it is something that should not be done, but cannot be helped." Though I couldn't see it, I could still sense the shrug of Vince's shoulders. "Not an accurate analogy, and makes it seem a bit trivial perhaps, but it is the closest I can come."

"Eh, I know it ain't trivial, Vince. I've watched ya, remember?" It was my turn to pause as I drummed my fingertips against my knee. I hadn't showered yet, but I had taken off my blood-caked gloves and washed up a bit; Vince needed the shower more than I did. "Ya talk about Chaos, but it's been a long time since ya mentioned the others. Don't think I've even seen 'em since the purple guy came along."

"No," Vince replied, "nor are you likely to soon. Chaos is the strongest. He has managed to keep the others under control, especially when their incessant chattering threatened to drive me mad." He fell silent as his head ducked under the spray to rinse his hair one-handed. "Though he is taking the time to inform me that it was most inconsiderate to compare him to a scab."

I shook my head with a laugh. "Yer an odd man, Vince," I commented. My feet dropped to the floor, and I leaned forward to prop my elbows on my thighs. "So is he always there? Watchin', I mean."

"We have an understanding, my demon and I," Vincent replied with a chuckle. "He is aware of it when I speak of him, and he knows I will call if he is needed. When I wish it, I have my privacy - such as now."

"Huh? What happens n-- nnn..." Yeah, that was the sound of my brain completely shutting down when the shower door slid open to reveal Vince's pale, scarred figure. He was clean now, coated with a sheen of water, and a few drops still trickled over his skin. Now that it was wet, his hair was even darker, and hung in waterlogged strands that framed his face 'Oh gods...'

"Now it is your turn for a shower," the nude man replied, beckoning with his naked hand. "I cannot stand here with you next to me any longer before doing something drastic. Though you will need to be rid of those clothes, I think."

My eyes drifted up my lover's lean, wet, beautiful form before meeting his eyes, staring into that playful expression. 'Playful...' It still wasn't a word easily applied to Vince, but that look was unmistakable.

Nor did I have to be asked twice. I stood, and quickly removed my clothes, and opened the door to toss them somewhere into my room. I'd been having the same thought as Vince, but I didn't want to do or say anything that might bother him. My body spoke for me though; once I was naked, Vince smirked at my visible arousal. He took my hand in his own, and guided me into the shower to shut the door behind me.

It was the first time we had been completely unclothed together, and it was worth the wait, feeling our skin slide wet and slick against each other. We were a tangle of limbs and lips, pressing as close as possible beneath the constant spray of hot water. Yet as heated as the water was, Vince's mouth was searing against mine, soft and wet with that unmistakable taste of Vincent, and I found it more addicting than the cigarettes.

And yet the kiss was far too brief; Vince pulled away with a panting breath to gaze down at me, smoldering gaze half-lidded. "The things I want to do to you, Highwind," he growled. I'd managed to convince Vincent to call me by my first name a while ago. But hearing my surname fall from his lips like that made it sound like both a curse and a pet name.

"Then do them, Vince. I ain't gonna stop ya." I was just as equally breathless, and trust me, I definitely had some of my own ideas.

"Shh," Vince replied, giving me a relatively chaste kiss. As he reached for the abandoned soap and washcloth, I opened my mouth to speak, but one glance from him was enough to make me close it again. 'Nope, still not immune.'

After a moment, it didn't matter. Vincent's hands were everywhere, scrubbing over me with a loving persistence. His left hand tried to be gentle - it was the one holding the washcloth, using it to lather my body with the soap. He wasn't quite as careful with his claws though, and every movement left faint red marks on me that tingled pleasantly under the hot spray. The right was just as busy, rubbing in the soap and kneading muscles I didn't know were tense, and using his touch to soothe the welts his claws left behind.

I had to give Vince credit - I wouldn't have been that patient. Every speck of dirt and drop of sweat, every smear of grease and smudge of blood was washed away before he abandoned the soap and cloth again. It left me feeling as though there was an electric current running through every nerve in my body. I was starting to get used to that 'I'm about to melt' feeling.

And then I nearly did. With my eyes closed, I couldn't see Vince kneel down on the tile, but I did feel the soft lips I so loved to watch close about the head of my painfully hardened cock. As good as his hand had felt earlier, this was so much better; before I could stop myself, I cried out and arched my hips forward. Vince's dark hair clung to my fingers when I tangled them in it. I wanted to pull, to thrust, but somehow I managed to force myself to relax, mouth dropping open and head lolling back as the perfect heat enveloped my needy length.

"Vince," I moaned, before abandoning all hope of forming coherent words. Vincent's hands moved to my thighs, one metal and one flesh, both warmed by the hot water and his own body heat. He pressed firmly, keeping me pinned to the wall as he devoured my leaking member. I could have died right then and been the happiest son of a bitch that ever lived. Vincent - the man I'd been wanting for over a year - was on his knees with my cock in his mouth and oh gods it felt good.

He might not've had much experience, but he sure as hell picked up some pointers somewhere. He did things to me with his throat and tongue, even his teeth, that left me a whimpering wreck. I thought his hand was torturous? His mouth was so much worse - and infinitely better. I loved it - I loved him - and I was quite vocal in telling him so, though I didn't know if he could understand me. I think I went out of my mind at some point.

He moved his hands then. The left slid up my body, almost to my neck, and rested there. The other moved between my legs and pressed against, until Vince, what I'd only thought of as an exit. He circled my hole with his fingertip, and I shuddered - I hadn't even tried touching myself there, and I realized what I'd been missing out on. I think he could tell I liked it, because the finger pressed into me, invading my ring to rest completely inside me. I thought it would hurt, or at least be uncomfortable, but it didn't - it just felt odd.

And then his right hand shifted, and he pressed on something inside me that sent sparks shooting through my brain and out my eyes, set every nerve in my body on fire. I think I screamed, but it might've just been a whimper. I don't know. I just knew he touched something that intensified the pleasure his mouth was giving me, and I couldn't stand it. It was intense enough to be painful, I wanted it to stop, I wanted it to go on forever. I was just one big bundle of want.

When he pressed that spot inside me again, I almost lost it. I was already close. But as he massaged that place deep in my ass, he drew his right hand roughly down my chest, claws pressing into my skin hard enough to leave vibrant welts that didn't quite bleed, but stung so sweetly. I had just enough time for a singe thought to flick through my lust-addled mind before my body gave in: 'How the hell did he know?' I did scream that time as I came hard into his hungry mouth, the most blindingly powerful thing, too strong for a simple word like 'orgasm'. I exploded, disintegrated, I wasn't Cid Highwind anymore, I was a bundle of nerves that had become Vince's plaything and would have been happy to remain so forever.

Vince was gentle pulling away, and caught me when I slumped down the the wall in a panting, trembling mess. I couldn't move or speak, couldn't even focus my eyes to look at him. Hell, I was probably even drooling. He didn't care, though. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, holding me tight until my breathing calmed and I didn't feel like my heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

"Holy fuck," was all I could think to say, and he laughed. It was a real laugh, not just a little chuckle, or something he held back, and I laughed with him, laying there in his arms with the shower beating down on us. I didn't want to ever move, but we both knew we had to.

He kissed me softly - I could still taste myself on his tongue as it flicked into my mouth. It was unusual, not quite the same as his flavor, but not too different. I think I even kinda liked it, though I preferred his taste to mine.

"I could get used to that," he said softly, smirking down at me.

"I dunno, Vince." I was still panting slightly, though I didn't want to close my eyes and lose sight of him. I liked the way he looked, dripping with water, hair hanging wet around his head. "Much more of that an' yer gonna kill me."

He kissed me again, softly. I sighed into his mouth before he pulled away, marveling at how natural it felt already. "Ahh, but then at least you will have gone with a smile on your face."

"Smile nothin'. I'd be grinnin' like a damn idiot. I've never felt anythin' so good." I pressed against his chest, and turned my head to nibble at his neck, licking away the moisture there.

He made a soft sound that reminded me of a purring cat, and I grinned. "I am glad," he replied. "It was rather inspiring, listening to the sounds you made. But come, up you go, it is about time we should be getting dressed. We will be there soon."

I groaned and let him help me stand - I was still a bit wobbly. "Can't we just stay here?" I asked, though I reached to turn the water off and grab a towel from the shelf just outside the shower. I stopped, though, suddenly realizing something. "Vince, ya didn't... I mean, what about you?"

"Do not worry about me," he replied. He snagged a second towel and began rubbing himself dry. I followed his example, and he could tell I was disappointed. He stopped me a moment to pull me in for a kiss. "It is one benefit of the things done to me. I am able to control my body when I wish - we do not have time for my indulgence, and I ached to see your climax." He let me go to stand there with a dumbfounded look on my face, and returned to drying himself. "Besides, waiting only makes it that much better, no?"

I thought about that, and grinned a bit before I covered my head with the towel, drying my short hair a bit. "Yeah," I agreed simply. I'd been waiting for him a long time now, and he had definitely been more than worth it.

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We glided through the evening air; the sun had gone down a while ago, and the sky was darkened into twilight. It looked much different than daytime, especially since we were near Midgar and Edge, and could see the city lights coming on. I stared at the sight, moving a hand behind me to cup it against Vince's neck, and he tightened his arms around me in response. It made me ache somewhere deep in my chest that he shared this with me; it made me love him even more, and I hadn't known that was even possible.

I held the pack in my other hand this time, since the straps irritated his wings. He had only worn it last time because he'd been worried I'd drop it, and I have a feeling he was right. He did distract me quite a bit. It held peaceful contents this time: a spare shirt, Vince's right glove, and the key to his gauntlet.

We could've landed the Highwind and just walked to 7th Heaven, but hell, Vince has his own transportation, and it's something I enjoy, so it didn't take much for him to get me to go along. We drifted lower and lower, following the roadways below into the center of Edge. I could see people glancing up at us - more than a few were startled - and grinned. Midgar didn't have a very peaceful reputation, and monsters lurked not far from the edge of Edge, so it was no surprise they were alarmed to see something flying overhead. I couldn't help but wonder what they thought when they saw it was us, though.

Eventually we reached the avenue in front of Tifa's bar. Right when Vince slowed enough to backwing near the ground, I heard the squeal of a little girl's voice from somewhere in the bar. "Cloud! A monster has Uncle Cid!"

I glanced back at Vince, expecting an unpleasant reaction, but I could see him trying to hold back a grin. He let his wings melt into his back as I dug out his shirt and passed it to him; he was pulling it on just as Cloud burst outside, that chunk of metal overcompensation he called a sword in his hand. The look of shock on his face was just perfect, and I busted out laughing.

"Dammit, Cid! What the hell is going on? Marlene's screaming something about a monster, and you--" He broke off, staring, as Vince finally got his shirt straightened out and pulled his long, black hair behind him. "Holy shit. Vincent?"

For some reason, that made me laugh harder. Vince gave me a scolding look, and grabbed the pack from my hand before I dropped it, then slung it over his shoulder. "Good evening, Cloud. You will have to excuse Highwind, he is not quite himself today."

"I'd say neither of you are," the swordsman replied in a wry, and motioned us toward the bar. "I don't think I've ever seen so much of you before. It's a nice change."

"It is interesting what one is willing to change when given proper incentives." Vincent replied as he handed me back the pack, once I'd gotten myself under control. I was still grinning though, and Vince just rolled his eyes at me.

"That's true," Cloud said; I could see him smiling. "Well, c'mon you two, dinner's almost ready. You got here just in time." He turned and headed for the door, but before I could follow, I felt Vince's hand slip into mine. He gave a light squeeze and smiled when I glanced over him, then let go to follow our former leader into the bar. I just shook my head and trailed along behind.

'A nice change indeed.'