Sinful Reconcilaition

By the time Cid made his descent at Nibelheim, the sun was peaking slowly above the horizon. He had also sobered, though for once his resolve was not weakened. Vincent had left the decision to him. Cid wasn’t going to get another chance and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this one pass him by. His heart ached the more he lied to himself, and the more he ran away. By denying himself his desires, Cid was destroying the assertive, confident, extroverted pilot he was. He was finally realizing, with a great deal of horror, that he was turning into Cloud. Clearly, something had to be done immediately.

Cid landed his ship and walked quickly towards Vincent’s mansion, headstrong and intent on finding his peace. In typical Nibelheim fashion, it began to rain almost the minute he began his approach. Cursing under his breath, Cid considered turning back to his ship to wait until the storm stopped, or at least collect his jacket and gloves. In nothing but a t-shirt, the rain was rather chilling. However, he knew that if he turned back now, he would never come back.

Soaked and little bit more than frustrated, Cid finally walked into the entryway of Vincent’s mansion, lighting a much needed cigarette the instant he wasn’t surrounded by rain. After inhaling the putrid smoke, he renewed his trek towards the receptionist’s desk. The lady attending the desk marked her page in the book she was reading as she greeted him, quite cheerily for so early in the morning.

“Good morning sir, would you like a room for one?”

“I need to speak to Vincent.”

After a slight hesitation the woman responded, “Just a moment, sir.”

She pressed one of the black buttons on an intercom system behind her. A few seconds later Cid heard Vincent’s voice come through the speakers.

“What is it?”

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Valentine, but there’s a man here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Send Mr. Highwind up.”

The woman hesitated slightly at the use of Cid’s name as she was fairly sure she hadn’t told Vincent who the visitor was, “Yes, sir.”

A few minutes later Cid found himself at Vincent’s door, trying to conjure the resolve to knock on it. However, before such inspiration could be summoned the door opened, and Vincent stood aside to indicate that Cid should enter. The room was fairly large and decorated darkly, with blacks and reds, as could be expected. Large windows parallel to the bed with thin drapery allowed the soft glow of the rising sun to seep into the room. Vincent had clearly already woken for the day, as he was dressed and his hair was pulled out of his face with the ever present blood red piece of cloth. However, his feet were bare, and a book was placed carefully on the edge of his nightstand, saving the page. He had been reading, waiting for Cid to return as he suspected he would.

“Couldn’t drink me out of your head, Chief?”

“Failed miserably actually, you fucker.”

“Why did you come back, Cid?”

This time it was not Cid who was pushed against the wall. Vincent’s eyes widened slightly as his back collided with the wall. For all of his force, Cid immediately softened, both hands place on Vincent’s chest as he burrowed his head in the Gunman’s shoulder. Ever so softly, Cid spoke into Vincent’s neck, his lips gracing lightly over the pale, sensitive skin.

“Vince, I need you.”

While the gunman had a fair idea what exactly the pilot wanted, he had to be sure before he took their relationship any further, whispering faintly into the blonde hair, “What do you want me to do, Cid?”

Regaining a big more of his confidence, Cid slid one hand up to the back of Vincent’s neck, and the other down to grasp his hip delicately. With the action he spoke a little more clearly, “feel me…”

Then the pilot spoke again, almost forcefully as he pulled Vincent’s hips flush against his own, “touch me…”

Lifting his head from Vincent’s neck, he looked into his eyes, searching for the reassurance he needed, which he found, before leaning in and speaking his final plea against velvety lips, “love me.”

Vincent gasped sharply at Cid admission, but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around the pilot’s shoulders, and finally guided his lips into reverent submission against the other man’s. Both moaned in unison at the stimulating contact. As they slowly glided towards the bed, their kiss intensified as tongues danced. Cid led his hands back to the silk shirt adorning Vincent’s chest, and began slowly undoing the buttons.

As they reached the edge of the bed, Cid pushed the shirt off of Vincent’s shoulders, running his calloused fingers down the exposed arms. Feeling slightly underdressed in comparison, Vincent made short time of removing Cid’s flight goggles and shirt. Then he pushed the slightly delirious pilot onto the bed, and straddled his hips. Their slow and affectionate caresses were becoming much more passionate. Vincent ducked down again for another fiery kiss, only breaking away to move down the chest that lay delectably before him. His lips and teeth traced every muscle on the pale expanse, leaving bites and soothing kisses in their wake. Each touch further infused Cid’s rising sensitivity. Vincent lips felt like fire, burning deep into his heart. He clung desperately to the gunman’s shoulders, as he fought the moans and gasps that threatened to explode from his parted lips. When he thought he could bare the torture no longer, Vincent made his way back up to the pilot’s lips and kissed them again, with even more fervor. He was desperate to draw out those impassioned sounds Cid so desperately tried to hold back. Cid became so thoroughly lost in the sensation when Vincent began to lightly nibble on his bottom lip that he didn’t realize his pants were being undone, until Vincent pulled back abruptly to relieve the pilot of the last of his clothing.

Vincent paused momentarily after throwing Cid’s boxers behind him to behold the sight in front of him. Cid was beautiful, tanned and stretched out on his bed, with his eyes glazed over and his hair sticking every which way. With a smile, Vincent returned to his lover, who sat up and pulled him into his lap and a bruising kiss, quickly unfastening his pants. Vincent removed himself from their tangle of limbs only long enough for Cid to remove his pants and boxers completely, before throwing himself back into the arms of his lover, again straddling his thighs, though he knew their position would change soon enough.

Engulfed in another kiss, Vincent thrust his hips down against Cid’s, eliciting a deep moan from both men. He pushed Cid down to rest his back against the bed, and pulled away to look into the lust glazed blue eyes of his friend. In response to his silent question, Cid parted his legs for Vincent. With a tender and loving smile, Vincent reached into his nightstand to retrieve the necessary item. The last thing he wanted Cid to feel was pain. With a reassuring look, he entered Cid with a liberally coated finger. Vincent brought his lips to the pilot’s in an effort to ease his discomfort, as he added a second finger, and slowly and deliberately prepared him for their union.

When Cid’s gasps turned into moans, and his stillness became a delicate shuddering, Vincent removed his fingers and coated himself with the silken liquid, before discarding the bottle with a toss over his shoulder. He looked to Cid again, seeking one last confirmation before entering him. Cid cupped Vincent’s face and brought him close enough to taste, before removing the red cloth that held Vincent’s hair at bay. With a sea of silken black framing both their faces, Cid spoke to his companion, in a husky, sex laced voice.

“I love you, Vincent.”

“I love you too, Cid.”

Convinced that neither of them would regret the action, Vincent grasped the pilot’s hips and slid slowly into his lover, growling in unison with him. He threw his head back at the sensational warmth, though his hair quickly returned to fall in his face yet again. Cid finally let a hoarse, raunchy moan escape his throat. To Vincent, the sound dripped from the man’s swollen parted lips, begging to be licked up and devoured. As their bodies danced in unison, so did their voices, rising in a chorus of sin and ecstasy. Lifting his hands from Cid’s hips, the gunman reached up to draw Cid’s from around his neck. He interlaced their fingers, and pressed their conjoined hands into the bed on either side of Cid’s trembling body, just above his head, as he continued to poor all of his energy into pleasing his lover. Cid’s legs gripped Vincent’s hips tighter, rising up to meet every motion with equal intensity, their writhing bodies close enough to stimulate his own erection. His back arched and his fingernails dug into the backs of Vincent’s hands as he neared the apex of their passion.

Striving to keep his eyes open, Cid gazed intently into the red of his lover’s eyes, drowning in the scarlet rapture as he succumbed to his sensational need. At the sound of his own name dripping seductively from Cid’s lips, and the feel of his body tightening around him, Vincent allowed his own ecstasy to conquer him, releasing fiery liquid sin into his lover.

After recovering from the culmination of their love, Vincent cleaned off their abdomens with tissue from the nightstand, and relaxed onto his back, drawing Cid onto him, and into his arms. While Cid had no doubt that Vincent loved him, there was still one thing he absolutely had to know.

“Hey, Vince?”

“Hmm?”

“You know Cloud pretty well by now, right?”

“Cid, do honestly think that I would make love to you if Clou--”

“It’s not about that Vince. It’s just…well…what kind of hair gel does he use?”

Vincent was more than mildly shocked at this question, but found the fact that Cid had asked instead of something not incredibly dramatic to be somewhat relieving and funny.

“He doesn’t use any.”

“What do you mean, he doesn’t use any? He has to. There is no way that’s natural.”

“Cid, Cloud’s hair is its own sentient being. It would probably become quite upset if Cloud put gel in it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to feed it kibble or something.”

The light rumble of Cid’s chest against his own, made Vincent smile, and hug him even tighter to his body. Drawing the covers over their spent bodies, he kissed Cid’s head, wishing his pilot the sweetest dreams as they endeavored to sleep the morning away in each other’s arms.


A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews make me happy, and are very helpful considering this is my first fiction. Also, if enough of you ask for more citrus, I can add a lemony epilogue!