"Ergo"

8Title: Ergo
Author: Jadesilver
Series: Final Fantasy VII (Post D.O.C.)
Timeline: Based off Information from: http://www.answers.com/topic/final-fantasy-vii-timeline
Pairing: ReevexVincent in many forms. I hope.

Warnings: There will be spoilers. Don’t get spoiled now! There will, knowing me, be angst, fluff, drama, action and such. I try to anticipate upcoming things for marking for content. If something changes, I'll add more warnings. This has plot. Lots of plot. We will be getting to the sex eventually. CHARACTER DEATH. YAOI.

Criticism: If you see any spelling errors or stupid goofs, go for it. Otherwise this is here for you to enjoy. If you don’t enjoy it, walk away and don’t say anything. If you do enjoy it, let me know. Encouragement motivates me, attention whore that I am ^_~.
This will be a Yaoi fanfiction. There will be the ReevexVincent pairing. I like my timeline, and my interpretation of it. I don't care what yours is. If you whine about any of these things, I personally wonder what you are doing here at this site. XD

Thanks: To Headshrinker for the beta

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CHAPTER SEVEN AND EIGHT:]]


~*~

Reeve was standing in the middle of the research room, and he was utterly still, like he had walked in and forgotten what he planned to do. Vincent couldn’t bring himself to sit by the man, or to stand completely steady. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. This all felt like it was his fault, a rush of icy panic that made his knees weak. Just like Lucrecia. He felt sick, his stomach rolling coldly. When had he eaten last?

He couldn’t really remember…he hadn’t had anything at the party for Marlene…

He swayed.

“Vincent?” Reeve asked, as if snapping from his trance.

The room went slowly dark, and he felt two warm arms around him suddenly. He was weightless and he didn’t have to stand anymore, and that felt good so he /leaned/. He heard Reeve grunt, and then felt the hardness of the floor impacting his knees. He felt Reeve’s broad chest against his, stronger legs tangling over Vincent’s thin ones.

The room faded back in, and tears ran down the ex-Turk’s face, hot and sickening like blood. Why was he crying…it was just a nightmare, right? He tried to pull away, but Reeve just held him, and Vincent made a choked sound of misery. When he couldn’t escape he just leaned in. If Reeve were here then it was true. It was true…and Tifa was dead, and he was dizzy. Everything felt like it was moving slowly, surreal in this time and place.

Cloud was still sobbing in wordless agony down the hall, Vincent could hear the echo.

This much human emotion in such a small space made him frantic and fearful. “Who will tell the children.” Vincent asked, voice deep with misery. It felt like someone else was speaking from within him.

“That is not your concern or mine,” Reeve said almost blankly, strong hands stroking the back of Vincent’s head.

“Someone has to…”

“Vincent…let them sleep,” Reeve said softly. “Let the little ones sleep and the other deal with what may come in dawns light after rest. Now is not the time.”

“But I…”

“It is not your duty…nor is it mine. Come.” Reeve said, standing tiredly and with a lot more brute strength than the other should have possessed, pulled Vincent upright. Was Reeve running away? Was Vincent? He wasn’t sure.

“What will we…” he began.

“We are going to another hotel somewhere. And we will…rest…” Reeve’s voice cracked on the last word.

Vincent’s world felt like it was crumbling around the edges again, and Reeve’s looked like it was already shattered.

“Come…where to?” Reeve asked, “Come Vincent, I need you to tell me where we are to go?”

Vincent struggled mightily between exhaustion and panic, duty and fear.

“To the west side of town… there is a nice hotel there,” Vincent said, wiping his eyes, feeling a strange numbness.

Right now, he had to pretend that none of this had happened. Part of him needed desperately to feign the normalcy. If for nothing else, then to protect Reeve. Everything felt too normal. They all died, and things went on, and Vincent’s misery was a rock in the river of life. He and Reeve broke, and the world pushed onwards around them.

~*~

The walk to the hotel had been tense and Vincent had been tight lipped and silent.

Now the dark haired man sat holding a cup of soup in his hands while Reeve spooned disheartenedly at his own. From time to time he would urge Vincent to eat, and the ex-Turk would take a few bites, but only because he had to or he might feel faint again at a moment when Reeve needed Vincent to protect him.

Reeve had showered, was in his night clothes. Vincent just felt like his skin was stretched too tightly over his body. Chewing made his head ache, so finally Reeve took the cup from him, and kneeling next to him, tilted it up to his lips. Apparently the man was frustrated with Vincent’s inaction.

Vincent was so surprised by this that he drank from the cup, claw flexing helplessly in the carpet. His pride would have dictated that he jerk away from the gesture, but there was something so /humble/ about the way Reeve offered the cup to him. When he was finished, and Reeve set the cup aside, the first thing to go was his cape. (freshly retrieved from Marlene)

He watched with intent ruby eyes, but he felt as if he were far away as Reeve unbuckled the velvet, sliding it away from his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Vincent asked.

“When have you showered last?” Reeve asked, even as he rummaged in his bag. “I found some sleep clothes for you, and thought ahead,” Reeve smirked.

The man looked utterly wiped out to Vincent.

“I…” Vincent began lowly before his thoughts failed him.

“Come on,” Reeve said as he helped the taller man to his feet.

He led him into the bathroom and pushed the door back against the wall to show that no one was there, as Vincent had for him. “I brought spare sleep clothes, oversized, they should fit you. I’m going to send your things to be cleaned here, as well as mine. I’ll drop them off under fictitious names. We can hope no one notices that our clothing is distinctive…”

Reeve ran his fingers through his hair.

~*~

He sat on the edge of the bed, and was surprised when Reeve began to comb through his soaked and tangled hair. If it had been anyone else, he would have pulled away from the gesture as coddling. With Reeve it felt…strangely nice.

Vincent didn’t know what to do with himself, with his hands, he wished he was combing his hair for something to do, but Reeve was…was he massaging his scalp? He sighed softly then, trying to unwind with the touch. He was surprised though, when he heard a soft sound from Reeve behind him. He turned away to look, and the man was biting his lip, the corners of his eyes wet.

“I couldn’t protect her.” Reeve whispered, and Vincent felt such an echo of his own sentiments that he had to turn around the rest of the way, and slide his arms around the other man.

“We could not…you’re right.” Vincent whispered lowly. “We also could not have prevented what happened, do not…do not cry. She would not want that.” Vincent tried to encourage, even when his own heart felt like it was broken. He didn’t know how to help…but he could hold Reeve’s warm body against his.

Reeve’s fingers stroked Vincent’s shoulders strongly, holding the spare undershirt tightly, as if afraid the taller man would disappear.

“Why can I not protect those I love?” Reeve asked hoarsely.

Something in Vincent tore open then. Leaning forward, he kissed away Reeve’s tears, each touch tentative and full of a dark intensity to comfort.

Reeve made a low sound, his eyes closing hesitantly as he leaned into the hollow of Vincent’s neck, his goatee a ticklish rub as he nuzzled. Reeve took in a sharp breath, as Vincent kissed the side of his neck.

Vincent did not know what came over him then, Reeve smelled so…good. His clawed hand stroked gentle fingertips down the soft cotton of Reeve’s sleep shirt, and the other found the gap between boxers and skin, stroking hesitantly. He craved the touch of skin on skin with Reeve, and something drove him from inside, a sharp coppery ache that made him shut his eyes and moan low.

Reeve took a fluttering breath as Vincent’s hand slid up under his shirt and over smooth bare chest.

“Vin…cent…” Reeve whispered hoarsely as he licked his lips before leaning up and pulling Vincent into a kiss.

This was safe and warm, so Vincent let Reeve push him back and those lips touched his. He opened his mouth to the touches, and Reeve’s tongue slipped inside, flicking against the tip of Vincent’s. Cerberus found herself on the floor next to the bed, as Vincent slowly tugged Reeve out of his shirt.

It felt to Vincent like it was someone else’s hands who were hungry, touching Reeve. The man’s heart was pounding violently under the dark haired man’s hands, and Reeve’s muscles rippled as the man moved into Vincent’s touch encouragingly. Vincent touched with his clawed hand too, careful, hesitant. Reeve didn’t seem to mind the claw at all, and part of Vincent let out a deep sigh of relief.

Reeve’s skin was a color rich and beautiful in the lamplight of the hotel, and Vincent appreciated that. He even appreciated the fine “v” of mocha colored hair that lay soft and straight down the middle of Reeve’s chest and disappeared into a darker patch somewhere below his boxers.

Vincent let his hands wander further, and as he nudged Reeve back, the man slipped his boxers off. For a time Vincent was afraid to look down, but there was something reassuring in this. Reeve was giving him all of this, showing him all of him. There would be no mysteries, no fear of the unknown or the unplanned.

Vincent looked down slowly, and felt Reeve’s fingers trail through his wet hair. He shuddered and breathed out a slow and reverent sigh. Reeve was perfectly proportional. Uncut, tilting slightly to the left and almost completely hard. It made Vincent’s heart jump in his chest. He had seen this before…felt the hurt of one of these used wrongly, and it flooded him with sudden fear, a flash of memory… blood and pain and fear,
He froze.

Time started again, and Reeve’s high cheekbones were painted with a blush, but his expression was serious and gentle.

“Vincent…are you all right?” Reeve asked, eyes a little dilated, breath coming too quickly.

Vincent startled and then reddened, nodding…those dreams. Those memories…

He pulled away from Reeve like he had been slapped.

“Do you want me to get dressed again?” Reeve asked quietly.

Vincent swallowed hard, and then stood from the bed with a nod.

“I’m sorry…it’s all right Vincent,” Reeve tried to reassure.

Vincent didn’t want to look and see that betrayed look on Reeve’s face, the hurt.

He stood in the middle of the room, trying to hide behind his wet hair, his fists clenched as he stared at the door of the hotel, frozen. His breathing came too quickly, but his hardness was starting to fade. He was frightened. There was a rustle of clothing as Reeve dressed.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Reeve to slip his arms around him from behind.

Vincent trembled, smelling Reeve, tasting the arousal between them in the room, the feeling of emotions thick with each breath in and out.

“It’s all right…” Reeve whispered.

Vincent could feel the other man was clothed again, and he turned around, regret and fear and pain in his eyes.

“It’s all right,” Reeve murmured again, his tone understanding.

Vincent slowly laid his head on Reeve’s shoulder, and let the other man let him drop his head to his shoulder and sob, which Vincent finally allowed himself to. For Tifa, for Reeve, for Cloud so wounded in his grief. For the children. For what had happened to him in those labs, and for Lucrecia and Sephiroth. For pulling away from Reeve when he should have been able to touch and hold and comfort with his body. To relieve this odd-thick tension between them. Vincent just wasn’t ready.

~*~

“No…that can’t be!” Denzel whispered harshly. “Tifa never loses! She’s not dead…she’s not!” The boy choked, backing away from Cid slowly.

“Denzel,” Yuffie whispered softly. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“It can’t be! You’re lying!” The boy cried.

Marlene was hiding in Cloud’s shirt, crying quietly. Denzel’s rage was upsetting her more.

Denzel backed away further, even though Cid was making no attempt to crowd him.

He yanked out his IV line then, and ran.

“Wait! Denzel wait!” Cid shouted.

The pilot swore as he took off after the boy.

~*~

Denzel was much too small for huge black chocobo he had stolen from the stables. He leaned over the beast’s neck, looking in the low light. He had stolen a ride on one of the local airships, and now he was here…here around where the beasts had attacked them. When he saw the bar, he dismounted slowly, his hands shaking. He dropped some greens for the chocobo, and took in the newly repaired Seventh Heaven. The repairs were obvious, but Denzel didn’t mind. Barret and Shelke had done a good job.

He picked up the shovel by the outside wall, and let himself into the bar, every nerve alert. They hadn’t changed the locks on the door, so letting himself in was easy. He peered around. Everything was repaired, cleaned, polished.

With shaking hands he let himself in behind the bar to the cellar door, and holding his breath and brandishing a stolen flash light that he turned on, he let himself into the cellar.

His heart pounded in his ears as he descended the stairs, and he could hardly see because the hand he was holding the flashlight with was trembling so badly.

He stepped off the bottom step and glanced around. Nothing. Nothing but silence so thick it all but wrapped its arms around him and squeezed.

The beam of the flashlight startled a tiny lizard when the light reached it. Denzel squeaked, and then gave chase.

The lizard disappeared into a crack in the cement floor. Angry at his own fear, Denzel shoved the shovel into the crack with a cry, trying to chop any part of the little beast he could reach.

A moment later, the floor crumbled out from underneath him, pieces of concrete falling in so swiftly he didn’t have a chance to catch hold of anything.

He tumbled into darkness.

~*~

Vincent woke slowly, mechanically, trying to sit up shakily. His eyes were swollen and his body felt heavy. Something was...his PHS was ringing. Reeve’s arm tightened around him, and he fell to that sturdy chest, a little confused still at waking next to the WRO President. At waking next to /somebody/.

“Let it ring,” Reeve whispered, voice husky with sleep.

“It could be important,” Vincent murmured, his voice gruff and small.

“I’m sure it is...but we can’t right now,” Reeve said.

Vincent fell back with a soft sigh. He hated to admit it, but Reeve was right. It was all right...no, it was important to take time to rest and recover. A broken heart could be just as violent as a broken body.

“You...look a bit better than you did last night,” Reeve admitted.

Vincent shook his head, tangled hair now dry and silky fell over Reeve’s chest like a waterfall of ink.

“It will get better with time,” Reeve told the dark haired man tenderly.

Vincent felt his throat constrict. The PHS stopped ringing.

“Vin...” Reeve whispered hoarsely, as if reading like a book the expression on those sad and handsome features.

To anyone else it might have been indecipherable, but Reeve read it perfectly.

Vincent turned to Reeve, and very slowly slipped his arm around him, hiding in Reeve’s arms. Reeve encouraged him to, slipping the blankets up around him carefully, hiding them both away from the world.

~*~

“Took ya long enough to answer the damn PHS,” Cid groused. “There are some people here to see ya, ya know?”

“What Cid means is...” Nanaki interrupted, “that Denzel has gone missing, and we had to call out the cavalry.”

“There you are yo!” a very familiar voice called down the hallway.

Vincent absolutely stiffened.

Reno sauntered over, scratching the back of his head as he looked around.

“The Boss sent us over...I hate hospitals yo!” the red-head whined.

Vincent turned to Reeve and gave him a look that clearly stated ‘please god tell me no.’

“Perhaps it would be best, if Cloud and the others returned to the bar, closer to Edge should we need them. I have a feeling that might be where he has gone. Reno, Rude...if it is all right with Tseng and Elena and...your Boss, would you please go with Cloud and the others?”

“The big boss wants us to keep an eye on you still you know? We’ve got an awful lot invested in you. You can come stay with us and do what you need to yo, we can ask once we’ve got you settled if we can go keep the spike head company?”

Vincent gave Reeve the most evil of looks.

“We would be glad for that,” Reeve said, looking like this was a bit of a weight off his shoulders.

Inside, Vincent was seething. He might have cared for them at least enough to heal their wounds, but he wasn’t wild about being near people that reminded him a bit too much of things he had hoped to leave behind in the absolution Lucrecia had showed him

~*~

Vincent embraced Shelke gently, telling her to call him should she need him. She nodded. Marlene looked pale and weak, but under her own power she hugged Vincent’s leg, leaning against him and looking up at him almost pleadingly.

“All will be well,” he lied to her, feeling his stomach knot. She gave him a weak smile, and he ruffled her hair tenderly.

Cloud looked like death walking, but he took her hand, and then swung her up effortlessly into his arms She clung close. Cid, Nanaki, Barret and Yuffie looked flattened, each in their own ways. Vincent spoke quietly to each of them for a moment, doing his best to comfort, to protect.

When they left, Vincent looked tiredly up at Reno and Rude.

“Let’s go then,” he said, sounding a hint irritated as he stood, tall and protective beside Reeve.

~*~

“We went ahead and ordered your projects transferred like you asked,” Reno said, squeezing much closer than an obviously disgruntled Vincent wanted.

Reeve didn’t seem to mind that the mound of muscle that made up Rude was crushing him against the door. Vincent reflected that if nothing else, Reeve was moderately safe like this. The pilot was none other than Elena, so he was fairly comfortable in the fact that she wasn’t planning an imminent assassination.

“Thank you Reno, every little bit helps at this point.”

“We uh...we heard about Cloud’s girlfriend. The boss says he’ll help with the arrangements.”

“Thanks,” Reeve said flatly, rubbing his temples.

“You should eat,” Rude said patiently, his voice a rumble over the noise of the blades. Reeve and Vincent looked at each other the same way, most likely having the same thought. It wasn’t a suggestion when Rude said it like that.

~*~

Tseng met them at the doors of the headquarters, as graceful as ever. Vincent almost twitched at the sight of the man, but a patient hand at the small of his back, just for a moment and imperceptibly; told Vincent that Reeve was sorry to do this to him. Vincent didn’t like being here, but he didn’t have a choice. He had sworn to protect Reeve. And part of him...well, part of him just didn’t want to be away from the other man for some reason.

Tseng showed them to the kitchens, and Reeve actually fixed them lunch. Soup and sandwiches, which were rather good. Vincent had never known that Reeve could cook. But then, Vincent didn’t know much at all about Reeve, and the gaps were suddenly telling. For a moment, he debated asking Reeve all sorts of odd questions he was dying to know the answers to, but instead he just bit his lip. Maybe later. He wasn’t one to chat much.

“You’re hired, yo? I love it when someone other than Elena cooks...ahhhhrrggghhhh....”

Vincent raised an eyebrow as Elena, without even looking up from her sandwich, clocked Reno neatly in the head with a rolling pin from the nearby island counter.

Tseng ignored the squabbling smoothly.

“I have settled the laboratory, and the few men you had assigned, here in the building. All is secure as was specified, and I have been going over Reports. Can you tell me what exactly, in layman’s terms, you are seeing?

Reeve set his sandwich down, and dusting his hands off politely, he took the reports. He chewed and swallowed once, familiarizing himself and then turning them upside down, he began.

“I am sure you read the basic reports that you were sent, but the truth is that more and more things are becoming clear to us as we research.”

Tseng nodded as Reeve flipped the page, and then showed him the data charts.

“We hatched out a nest of baby ‘Bone Collectors’ and we were shocked to find that the mortality rate is extremely high in the young. They eat siblings before they can hatch, meaning fifty percent at the least, and then half of those die from lack of calcium. It explains the need for bones, and the adults gathering and dragging them to the nests. It also explains the flexible nature of the adults. Less calcium? Less solid bone structure.”

“But a high mortality rate is a good thing, is it not? It means we can more easily control the spread,” Tseng said, his tone clipped and sharp, eyes studying the charts.

“I am afraid that the benefit of high mortality rate fails when the maturation and reproduction rates are astronomical,” Reeve said gravely.

“What are we talking here?” Tseng said crisply.

“A veritable pandemic, if it spreads unchecked,” Reeve said honestly. “I haven’t crunched numbers yet, we don’t have all the facts.”

Vincent’s blood-red eyes studied the paper from the side. He finished eating quickly so he could pay more attention.

“What facts do you need?” Tseng asked lowly.

“We need to know why all of the beasts bear a missing and very important part of their DNA sequencing. It would mark them as having a distinct ancestry, a distinct race and gender. Those that mate, are the ones captured in the wild. They have a specific gender. But those that show no interest in mating have no code within their makeup.”

“Drones?” Vincent offered.

“Perhaps,” Reeve said lowly. “Though that seems unlikely, they hunt only in small packs, and show no tendency towards hive mentality.”

“So we have no idea what this missing strand of DNA means?” Tseng said, sounding intrigued.

“Not yet,” Reeve said sadly. “But we’ve come a long way. At least we know how to combat them.”

“A weakness to fire, I see,” the *Wutaian man said.

“Yes.”

~*~

Denzel woke slowly, feeling as though he had fallen asleep in the bathtub again, except for the fact that he was surrounded by the reek of Mako.

For a time he wondered if he were blind, for he was certain he had opened his eyes. But no, it was just extremely dark where he was. There was a heavy dust in the air, and he lay in a small pool of Mako, concrete littering the rock floor he was laying on. A faint light filtered down in from above him.

He sat up with a moan. The Mako had healed his wounds, but he was brutally sore. The drop had been fairly far. Where was he?

There was the sound of scrabbling claws off in the distance, and for a moment Denzel sunk back into the furthest shadows. After a time, the noise went away, but Denzel took note of the direction it had come from. It was sheer and straight down any way but the way the scrabbling had come from.

He was cold, and nauseous, but there was no way he could climb back up the way he had come. The only way out was to follow the noise, because there was more than likely one way in and out of this cave.

~*~

“They will notice, brother, when the fields surrounding Edge give in.”

“It is an unfortunate side-effect. They already know, it was inevitable that this place will collapse. We squeezed by undetected long enough.”

“But what do we do now?”

“We will move on, as we have planned.”

“But the facilities here?”

“We will move, I have already given the order. Everything is in place, the men are...obedient.”

“The first subjects have been obtained. They are being transferred to the new facilities. If we return him, do you think he will fight for us?”

“It is hard to say. But the process of soul transfer is incomplete. We must experiment further before we try such an undertaking. For him, everything must be perfect.”

“Of course brother.”

~*~

Denzel peered around the corner of the doorframe.

Two strange men were talking...men that looked...familiar somehow. Denzel spied further around the corner as the two of them walked towards a large machine that rested half in and half out of a Mako pool.

“So this is the last of the equipment?”

“Yes my brother.”

“We should go then?”

“Yes, come, the place we go to from here is much kinder in climate.”

The two men crawled into the machine carefully, and the thing came to life with a roar. A valve opened, and Mako ran through clear tubes along the sides. The vehicle fell and nudged into the pool, before simply sinking in and disappearing from sight.

Denzel looked around nervously, and as soon as the room quieted and the Mako stilled, he slipped into to look around.

~*~

Vincent sat on the edge of the bed in his boxers while Reeve perched beside him, similarly clad.

“ Do you think it is safe here?”

“There have been no attempts, either you have gotten lucky, or with our attacks on the creatures, we have announced to whoever is behind this that we are aware of their presence.”

“You believe this is more than just a monster outbreak?”

“I would bet your life on it,” Vincent said softly, turning to face Reeve.

Reeve nodded, and then reached out to reach up and touch the side of Vincent’s face tenderly.

Vincent surprised himself by leaning into the touch with a fluttering sigh. He craved Reeve’s touch, these moments they had alone at the end of the day, more than anything else. For a long moment there was nothing but silence and the hum of the air system in the building. They were in a room that had once belonged to another Turk who had been housed here. It was spacious and elegant while simple.

“About last night...” Vincent began.

“I pressed too fast...I assumed....” Reve began, sounding rushed, guilty, as if Vincent would not let him finish apologizing before decrying some sort of hatred.

“No, that isn’t it,” Vincent interrupted, and Reeve fell silent, gaze uncertain.

“I was...hurt....when I was specimen in the labs....”Vincent admitted, “I have just now started to come to terms with that.”

“Oh,” Reeve murmured, just before slipping his arms around Vincent’s neck, understanding and gentle.

Vincent fought the urge to flee, the urge to think this was pity. Reeve didn’t pity him, and he knew now that leaning into Reeve would drive his fears away. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he took a deep breath of Reeve’s hair and felt all his ‘what ifs’ die away.

“We...I won’t push,” Reeve said honestly.

“Wait,” Vincent said, cutting him off again. His voice was hoarse.

He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want Reeve to be deprived of anything between them. He didn’t, for once, want to deprive himself of an experience had always hoped would be good. It had been wonderful before, before he had over thought things and panicked.

“Wait?” Reeve echoed softly, blue eyes trying to read Vincent’s.

“I want to try again,” Vincent said extremely calmly.

So calmly that Reeve had to know he was nervous at the very least. And that he meant now.

“Vincent...not until you are...”

“I’m ready.”

“But...are you c...”

Reeve only stiffened for a moment when Vincent leaned in to kiss him, cutting him off. Slowly then, he relaxed, fingers tangling in that sleek hair. Reeve would have questioned Vincent, but in this case, it wasn’t that he was letting his hormones get away with him, it was that he understood that Vincent didn’t want to be questioned. Questions lead to thought, and thought to time for fear. Stopping wasn’t an issue, or Vincent wouldn’t even be touching Reeve. The WRO president knew this, so he let the man cut him off, leaning into the embrace.

Vincent kissed Reeve passionately, feeling that pressure under his ribs, and at the base of his spine roar to life. It was something he was normally frightened of. Something he kept violently in check. He felt a bit safer here, freer to let his guard down, to let Reeve in with fellow Turks keeping careful watch of the room. Vincent didn’t much like Tseng, but he trusted him to do his job and do it well and hire people of like mind.

When Reeve sensed the lag, sensed the relinquishment of power, he took over, slick tongue sliding into Vincent’s mouth. Flicking tip to tip for a moment made Vincent groan and slip clawed and flesh hands against Reeve’s back, slide them down his shoulders.

There were a few fine scars on that golden skin, and he touched them compassionately, in awe of just the power of touch and that body over his. Yielding wasn’t even an issue. Reeve knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

Reeve was a bit shorter than the lanky Turk in his arms, so he climbed effortlessly into Vincent’s lap, straddling those lean and sleek bare legs.

Vincent was fully hard, almost aching with desperation, when Reeve’s kissed moved to his jaw and down the side of his neck, and the broader of the two of them rocked their boxer covered needs together.

Hard and hot and sleek rubbed against Vincent’s cloth covered erection, grinding them both against the friction of fabric.

Vincent gasped and whimpered, flesh hand sliding up to cup the back of Reeve’s neck. He trusted the man to know what he needed, and he was rewarded when Reeve moved again, a low and almost sleepily passionate rumble in his throat. There was a hunger in those blue eyes, something feral that made Vincent’s belly cramp in pleasure, made him cry out lowly when Reeve descended to taste a collar bone. Pleasure to ease the tension, pleasure to ease the sadness.

Reeve was moving against him effortlessly, bringing them together cautiously despite his hunger. From time to time bright blue met blood red, and there was a wildness there that Vincent found reassuring somehow. It should have been intimidating, but Reeve had a way of command that was stern, yet loving that Vincent found irresistible to yield to.

He was distressed however, when Reeve slipped from his lap to the floor between his knees and the motion against him stopped. He forgot his objection when a warm wet mouth began to press open-mouthed kisses to his scars, to the washboard hills and valleys of rock hard abs.

Vincent was pleasantly muscled, if a bit thin.

Reeve’s tongue finally slipped under the band of Vincent’s boxers, and the ex-Turk’s hips lunged a bit reflexively. When they did so, Reeve used the moment to slip boxers off carefully, and caress smooth thighs with his thumbs as he slipped the garment the rest of the way off.

Vincent was long, not as thick as he had been expecting, but certainly more than adequate. Reeve kneaded at Vincent’s thighs, watching the man for signs of fear. When he got a nod from the dark haired man, he took a gentle breath and huffed it out against Vincent’s dripping manhood. Vincent gasped, his mind clearly stating that he knew where he wanted Reeve’s mouth next, even if he had no experience or knowledge in this.

“Patience,” Reeve whispered, letting the silky skin of his throat brush against Vincent’s erection as he nuzzled down Vincent’s lower belly, tongue slipping in to taste the spaces between hip and thigh.

Vincent’s clawed hand tangled in his hair, and flesh hand clutched convulsively at his shoulder.

One of Reeve’s hands came up to cup Vincent’s balls, and the other massaged through ebony curls nestled at the base of that long and elegant need. Elegant like Vincent. Vincent shuddered under him, making a low and wet sound that was utterly vulnerable. It was a stroke to Reeve’s ego for sure. The utterly unflappable Vincent Valentine was coming unraveled in his hands, and feeling safe with it to boot.

“Reeve,” Vincent pleaded, not sure what he was pleading for but certain Reeve knew what he needed.

“All right,” Reeve relinquished patiently, moving down, he took Vincent into his mouth.

Vincent growled low, his hips arching reflexively as blazing heat and wetness took him inside, swallowing around him...swirling around him.

Never in his existence could he have imagined that something could feel this good.

Vincent’s fingers dug into the bandages at Reeve’s chest as he tilted his head back and cried out lowly. Reeve’s hands moved to hold Vincent’s hips as the lanky man tried to move into and away from the gesture. It just felt that good, and Reeve understood.

Vincent’s ruby eyes watched the man as slowly he managed to still himself, his toes curling, the muscles of his thighs shuddering as Reeve suckled at him. The fact that it was Reeve doing these things was even more tender, more stunningly sexual and wonderful than he could have imagined it would be.

Reeve felt Vincent’s frightening concentration, that powerful body intent on him, only him, as he held the root of his being in his mouth, as he bobbed his head, swirled his tongue, as he swallowed the other man eagerly.

When the sensation was finally too much to bear, and Vincent threw his head back, his silky black hair tangling onto the bed in a shock of obsidian, he gasped Reeve’s name. With his mouth hanging open, his toes curling, and a vulnerable and quiet whimper, he finished.

When he was still tense, but had ceased to jerk and pulse in Reeve’s mouth, the man swallowed quickly, and despite his own arousal slid up to the bed, pulling a limp Vincent to his chest.

Vincent tangled with him, closing slightly tear damp eyes and relaxing to him. Vincent had needed that so badly, and Reeve understood. Vincent curled naked to him, holding him close reflexively, nuzzling as he regained his senses. Reeve pulled them together beneath the sheets, and as he did so, Vincent made a soft sound.

“You did not...” the taller man said, a gentle and cautious flesh hand touching between them where Reeve was still hard.

“It’s all right Vincent, your pleasure is what matters to me.”

Reeve’s penis threatened silently to the WRO president that it was going to detach and abdicate if he kept up this nonsense with no relief in sight.

Vincent leaned forward to kiss Reeve gratefully, and then spit into his hand, easing Reeve’s boxers down, he slipped his hand around Reeve’s turgid need.

“Is this all right?” Vincent whispered softly.

The only reply he got from Reeve was a quickening of breathing as the man hid his face into Vincent’s shoulder.

Vincent hummed lowly, his hand moving attentively as he nuzzled into Reeve’s silky hair. He tried to move his hand as he would for himself, to be attentive. Apparently, it must have been all right, because a moment later, Reeve moaned into his shoulder, arched his hips, he locked his arms tightly around Vincent, clinging, and then spilled out into the fabric of his boxers.

Vincent held him until the man stopped twitching and arching into his hand, before he leaned down and passionately, blindly, kissed the other.

Reeve used his boxers to clean up the rest of the mess, and then slipped naked into bed beside Vincent again, turning out the bedside light. There was a dozy comfort between them as they tangled in sleep. Both of them were hiding from the pain, but at least they were hiding together.

~*~

“Reno, Rude,” Tseng called sharply.

The two men entered his office. They were smirking a bit about the noise coming from Reeve and Vincent’s room, but they would never tell their boss that was why they were all but rolling on the floor in mirth.

“There have been several suspicious abductions in the area, do you know anything about them?”

Tseng trusted his men to have at least heard the rumors.

“No sir, we heard about some of them though.”

“I will inform Reeve in the morning, but with Denzel’s absence, and the vulnerability of strife and his companions, I would grant the President’s request. You will go to keep pace with Strife and the WRO. Help in any way you can. If anything arises, you may be in touch with me at any time, day or night. Leave tonight. Dismissed.

“Awww...man! I wanted to stick around and listen two the two of them get it on, yo!” Reno whined.

“Does that excite you?” Rude baited.

“Better than listening to Elena call the Boss’s name in her sleep,” Reno shot back.

“I said DISMISSED!” Tseng snapped.

~*~

TBC

*Wutaian = I have seen these Wutanese, Wutani, and I am just going with Wutaian. You will deal with this! ^_^

[A/N] Holy crap about time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. This chapter was written under the influence of exhaustion, Dr. Pepper, Mt. Dew, and near lethal levels of stress and anxiety. Hope everything came out smoothly. Sorry if I’m a bit behind, my main PC bit it the other day. (oh joy.)