Obsessive Dreamer

Ever sit there and find you can’t focus on nothing but one thing? Okay, now make that thing a person. I know you have. I mean, hasn’t everyone? Okay, maybe not everyone, but pretty damn close. Anyway, isn’t that kinda… annoying? Especially when they have no idea why you’re so fixated on them? Yeah. They get kinda aggravated after a while, I’ve found that out.

Of course, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for him. Yeah, it’s all his fault that I can’t do anything but sit here and watch him. I mean, if he wasn’t so damned… attractive then I wouldn’t have this problem! The way his crimson eyes flit over the page of his book… the way his dark hair falls over his face… the way his delicate lips move to form the words on the paper… All of it makes him practically irresistible. And here I am, stuck right in the middle, unable to look anywhere but straight at him.

“Highwind.”

God, that voice. So smooth and dark, those rich tones rolling off of his tongue like water. It kills me to hear that voice, especially in the morning when he’s slightly groggy still. It seems almost impossible to think of him as groggy when he’s so calm and cultured right now. But still, it happens. Not that he lets me see that side very often. He’s way too private about those kinds of things.

“Highwind.”

I wish he’d stop staring at me like that. I love his eyes and all, but the way he’s watching me is a little… well, strange. Like he’s not sure what he’s looking at.

“Highwind!”

“Huh?”

“Why have you been staring at me for the past hour?”

“I… wasn’t. I was… just lookin’ at the wall.”

“And what about the wall is so interesting, if I may ask?”

Damn, he knows how to get a man cornered. How’m I supposed to get my way around this? “Well, I, uh… there’s a spot on the wall.”

“I’m sure there is.” At least there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. Don’t need him mad at me over something like that. Especially when I do more than just stare at him. “Either way, I would appreciate it if you would stop or admit what you’re honestly staring at.” His eyes flick back down to the book, something that gives me a little relief at least.

I mean, I sure as hell don’t need him finding out everything right now. I’m fairly sure he wouldn’t wanna know all that anyway. What man does wanna know he’s being watched, dreamt of, and wanted by another man? It’s enough to make him demand a different roommate for these inns we stop at. And that wouldn’t exactly make me all that happy.

Now it’s not like I love the guy, don’t get me wrong. Certain quirks and things, yeah, I love those. But he himself? Nah, not quite. Call it more of… a wanting than love. It’s more of a physical thing than anything mental. I’m not even sure how many times I’ve dreamed of him in ways that were way over the line for appropriate.

But he’s just asking for it all, with those almost glowing eyes and slender hands and, god, that body. Not that I’ve seen more than clothes allow, but it’s enough to tell me he must look amazing without them. Obviously enough for my mind to work with, if my dreams mean anything.

“Highwind.”

“Huh?”

“You’re doing it again.” He pauses a little, that flicker of amusement passing over his face again. He hardly ever lets anyone else see that happen and it always gives me some personal thrill when he does it. Hardly anyone else ever sees the lighter side of him. I’m not really sure if there’s a reason besides I’m usually with him since he’s the only one who can supposedly tolerate me for a long time, but it’s always nice— “Highwind, do I have to make you stop staring at me?”

There’s that amused tone again, but it never helps to play along, right? “Ah, no. I’ll stop.” Heh. Throw in the little ‘I don’t like being scolded’ look and three, two, one, cue—

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

I honestly can’t help the smile creeping on my face as I nod. It’s almost ridiculous how many of his tendencies I know anymore. And to think, I’ve known the guy a total of what? Six months? Maybe not even that. But I guess always being paired with him in whatever inn we’re thrown into along with having this little attentive streak would get me that far in memorizing him. Hell, I’ve even started to memorize the way his hair falls after a shower. Wait. That actually sounds a little stalkerish. But never mind. It’s true.

There’s the look he always gives me, the little roll of the crimson eyes, the soft sigh that’s hardly ever irritated, just there, and he’s back to reading. Always the same on a usual night and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, no, I would, but that’s not bound to happen. I mean, I really doubt he’s going to jump into bed with me anytime soon. But that can’t stop a guy from dreaming, right? Right.

And, I mean, I can always wonder what it’d be like. Eh… dammit. Shouldn’t have thought of that. “I… think I’m gonna grab a shower.”

I can see those eyes peeking at me over his book again, but he doesn’t say anything. Figures. It’s just like him to pretend he doesn’t give a damn. Whatever. I get moving fast. I certainly don’t want to let on to… things.

I can hear him out there shuffling around as I head for the little bathroom. Probably just switching positions or something. He had been lying like that for a while. Probably in that one position he likes to fall asleep in now. He tends to need to sleep on his side, the blankets pulled down to his waist with his hands tucked under his chin. It’s… kinda cute, actually. But still… not helping things. Cute doesn’t work in these situations.

God, I look like shit. Makes me hate mirrors almost. Never mind. That’s not the problem right now. Least the steam from the shower’s covering my reflection. It’s warm, swirling around me the way it is. Shit… how’re my clothes getting wet from steam? Whatever. They’re just going on the floor anyway.

There’s a rush around my head as I pull my shirt off, a dark bruise staring at me from the mirror’s reflection. Damn. When’d I get that? Must’ve been the other day since it looks like it’s fading a little. Weird thing is, it kinda looks like fingerprints… but how would something like that happen?

Ah… dammit, okay… need to stop messing around and get down to… messing around. Like that made sense. But I guess that doesn’t matter. Pants join the shirt… and… Shit! Hot water! Fuck… okay, that’s better. And damn, does that water feel good.

Okay, okay, down to business. Down… wonder what Vince would look like down on his knees? God, that’s a pretty sight. That mischievous gleam in his eye… Wish I could see that for real. It’s definitely amazing in my mind. How can someone look so… innocent and sexy at the same time? And the way his tongue’s peeking out of his mouth to brush his lips…

Okay, that’s good… The tile is cold against my back as I lean against it, my hand venturing down to trail over my stomach. A little rough though… he wouldn’t be like that. Bet his hands are like velvet, all soft and smooth as they slide down more. Mhmm… fingertips tickling just a little as they trace closer…

I let my eyes flutter closed, the image of Vincent growing stronger. God, he looks so amazing down there, scarlet eyes peering up through a veil of ebony hair as he draws those fingers lower, just a little lower, there. A soft gasp escapes, one I’m willing to let go, as he gives a hard stroke. No, wait. That’s too hard. He’d be gentler, I can tell. Just the way he is. Okay, gentler, gentler, yeah… Careful strokes, ones that reach to the end, teasing at the tip. God, he’s good at this. Err, well, technically… but it’s close enough. I’d rather imagine him doing this. Makes it all the more better.

Okay, okay, back to the image. Or would this be a fantasy? I guess it would. Man, Vince would be so pissed if he knew I was fantasizing about him. Especially like this. It kinda makes me a little worried. But… I guess it’s too late to worry now. May as well get this fantasy finished before I worry about the consequences.

Okay… move the hand. There we go, get the mind off of that… I slump a little more against the wall, squeezing my hand some. No, Vincent’s squeezing his hand. Need to keep the fantasy going. Scarlet eyes slipping down my body as he leans forward a little, his fingers tightening just the slightest… that’s a nice sight. Nice feel too.

I kinda wanna go faster, but from the way Vince acts, he’d probably be a horrible tease. I’d ask faster and he’d just go slower. I’d ask harder and he’d just go softer. He’d be teasing me until I beg him to listen to me. ‘Course I wouldn’t really want him to listen ‘cause his teasing would be incredible. No, is incredible. The way he’s dragging that one finger down the entire way and running it over the tip to brush that spot right under it is driving me crazy, making me want more.

A soft whimper slips free, but he’s ignoring me in order to slide his hand just the tiniest bit faster to make it more torturous. God, he’s not as innocent as he looks. I can tell from the way he’s drawing his hand down, tightening it almost to the point of pain. But, fuck, it feels wonderful. A smirk crawls across his lips as he peers up at me, brushing his thumb hard across my tip, smearing the milky liquid there. It feels a little strange, but I can’t say I don’t like it.

Another whimper, one I’m not even sure is mine. Though I guess it is. Why would he be whimpering? He’d more likely just be smirking as he twists his hand—“Oh god… just like that…” I can feel my lip quivering as the fingers twist again, tightening enough to make me gasp loudly. Wonder if he enjoys tearing those sounds from me? From the look on his face, I’d say he does. Or at least the Vincent in my mind enjoys it.

Okay, now it’s getting hard to think of anything but those fingers, carefully petting and squeezing at the same time. I wanna tell him to go faster again, but he’s already doing that, fingertips racing over me like he can’t get enough of the contact even though I’m the one squirming. I know he’s speeding up and making his strokes stronger, but it’s killing me that this is taking so long. I want it to last forever, but I also wanna feel that burn, that push over the edge. But right now it feels like it’ll never happen… that it’ll just be this incredibly pleasurable torture forever.

I can hear the soft whisper of his name over the sound of the shower, but it takes a moment for me to realize the word came from my own mouth. The fear that someone might overhear pops into my head and I somehow force my lips shut, swallowing hard to keep any more sounds from slipping free. But god it’s so hard not to say something. It almost feels wrong not to. Shouldn’t he know how good this is making me feel? Shouldn’t he know how much I want him to continue?

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know he really shouldn’t. But the Vincent I’m seeing knelt before me, raven hair flowing over his pale back with the water pouring down on him, crimson eyes half-way lidded above a soft smirk, lips parting just barely to breathe out an enveloping warmth that surrounds my hips… That Vincent wants to know and I wanna let him. Another whisper, a little louder this time, heads up the moan I just can’t hold back.

Warmth begins building in the pit of my stomach and I let out a gasp to let Vincent know. He should know, just so he can do what he wants while he still can. And from the look in his eyes, he plans to take full advantage of that. Another twist makes the cry in my throat build more, the pressure almost too much to hold back.

I swear, he’s trying to make it hurt now. That look on his face is telling me that a million times over. Each stroke is harder, each twist is tighter… but god, does it feel good. I’m practically shaking from it all and that only makes him do it more. He peers up again, the blood red of his eyes turning a lusty maroon as he wrings his hand down my erection, his tongue flicking out to brush his lips. Shit, he’s so fucking sexy when he does that. So fucking sexy…

The taste of blood washes over my tongue as I bite down on my lip. I’m not gonna ruin this by being too loud. No way, no how. Not even if he keeps doing that— “Ah… Vince… goddammit…” I can’t help but buck forward into the hand wrapped around me, aching to feel the pressure of a finger running down the underside again. That was just the right thing to wrench free the moan I was holding back and I want more. It was perfect, the way it was gentle yet still hard enough to border on pain. But it was blissful pain, one I would gladly give up everything to feel again. Just… a little more to the— “Fuck… right there, Vince…”

He gives me that smug smirk, proud that he’s making me squirm so much. Cocky little bastard… god, I want him. But he stays where he is, continuing those torturously hard strokes. If he keeps that up, this isn’t gonna last much longer, I swear. Not that I mind all that much. By now that burn’s starting to get to me. The look on his face saying he’s all too willing to help, Vincent runs his other hand up my chest, the metal now warm from the shower. It’s interesting, those heated touches trailing over skin, brushing softly over a nipple as it’s reached. That, combined with the still rough motions, is driving me crazy.

Another gasp fills the steamed air surrounding me as fingers pinch, a quick twist of the others joining to make my mouth open for the breath. This isn’t gonna last much longer, I know that right now. And I think he knows too, the way his hands are going faster, god, so much faster. I’m not even sure how he’s doing it anymore, the way his fingers are managing to sneak in quick presses as he keeps speeding up even more. It’s mind-blowing how I’m even still standing under all this even though my legs are shaking. Hell, all of me is shaking. But just a couple more… just a couple more strokes and he’ll be smirking that smirk, listening as I call out his name and—

“Highwind!” The entire fantasy shatters at the call, loud knocking following right after. My hand falls away to my side, the other remaining where it was at my chest, just pressed flat against it. That scared the shit outta me.

“Highwind! Can you hear me?”

Vincent. It’s Vince… but… what would he want? Oh shit… maybe he heard me. I really don’t wanna get my head blown off by a shotgun right now. Neither of them, for that matter. I rather like my—

“Highwind?” Some more knocking. God, he doesn’t give up, does he? Guess I should answer him though or he might get even more suspicious.

Swallowing down a breath, I attempt to string together whatever sounds I need to make myself seem innocent. But it honestly is hard to do when my mind wants to go back to what it was doing. Not to mention my body does also. “Yeah?” I really hate the way my voice is kinda broken, but there’s not much I can do about it now.

“Strife just dropped by. He said he needs to speak with us all right now.”

Right now? Right now? Doesn’t that kid know what he’s interrupting right now? I give out a little sigh. No, guess he doesn’t. Probably doesn’t wanna know, either. Hell, don’t think I want him to know. “How soon?”

“I just said, Highwind. He says it’s urgent and needs to speak with us immediately.” There’s a pause and I can hear someone talking in the background. Dammit, don’t tell me Strife’s here too! Fuck, why don’t I just get out of the room and parade myself around in front of everyone, huh? May as well. Shit. I’ll just yell out that I’ve been jerking off to the thought of Vincent while I’m at it. No reason not to get that out there before I’m killed anyway.

The insistent throb between my legs is bordering on painful now, and not the good kind. No, it’s the kind that’s saying if I don’t finish off soon that I’m gonna be regretting it for a while. But there’s Vincent yelling over the sound of the shower again about how Cloud wants us all out there. “All right, fine! Just gimme a sec to get some fuckin’ clothes on, willya?”

I’m not happy. Not happy at all. Shaking water from my hair, I twist the shower off, a little more than pissed at the whole thing. Of all the times for that little bastard to interrupt me…

Whatever. I’ll get a chance sometime to yell at the kid. I don’t even care that my clothes are getting soaked as I hurry to yank them on. I’m just more or less hoping the shadows and shit’ll hide… things. The door slams as I shove it open and I can see Vincent jump at the sound, but right now I’m just a little too ticked to care. Whatever Strife pulled me outta that fantasy for better be good or he’s gonna regret it.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuckin’ Strife… gonna kill his lousy ass. Where’s he get off sayin’ that was important?” Yeah, I’m pissed. And I have plenty of reason to be pissed. Apparently Cloud thought it was urgent to tell us that he had decided we should move north. Why couldn’t he have waited? For godssakes, he could have told us over breakfast tomorrow and it would still be fine with everyone. Stupid blond. Wait. Stupid kid. There we go. Even though I’m kinda stupid myself, thinking I could get away with what I had been doing.

No matter now. Now I have a nice little companion I call booze to keep me company and to keep my mind off of him and what I missed. Even if this stuff’s weak. Shit, this wouldn’t even get a baby drunk. Think I’d better switch or some—

“Highwind, I rather dislike the thought of you coming to the room drunk again. You’re not that easy to deal with. Not very silent, either.”

The voice alone scares me, not to mention the slim hand that just grabbed my drink, making it disappear over my shoulder. What the hell’s going on here? It sounded like Vince, but why would he be here? And why would he take my drink?

Tipping my head back, I almost fall out of my chair. Shit… it is him. Now that I think about it, I should have known it was him. I mean… who else would be talking to me about rooms? Maybe those things are having more effect than I thought—whoa, what the hell! “Vince, what’re ya drinkin’ that for? Thought ya didn’t like booze!”

He lowers the glass a little, raising a brow like I’m crazy or something. “True, I don’t favor it like you do, but I’m not opposed to a drink every so often.”

I really can’t help but stare as he tips the glass back, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp. Shit… man can really drink when he puts his mind to it. My fingers twitch almost automatically to call for another and I soon hear the sound of a glass being slid toward me. Crimson watches as I pick up the glass and hand it to him. “Want another then?”

The empty glass clinks on the bar in front of me as he shrugs. Now that’s something I hardly see him do. Usually there’s a definitive answer in that smooth voice, one that normally is for the negative in these types of deals. But there he goes, taking in the second glass like it’s water. Kinda makes me wonder what he’s been up to that’d make him wanna drink like that.

A private curl on his lips, he sets the glass down and leans down to speak so only I hear him. “Like I said, don’t come back drunk. I don’t feel like using my rifle tonight.”

I really didn’t hear that right. So didn’t hear that right. And that little smirk on his lips isn’t helping. Maybe it’s just kinda an… overflow from earlier when I kept imagining him with that smirk. “What if I wanna? Ya really gonna shoot me?” Dammit, Cid, stop testing your damn luck! If he’s threatening to pull a gun to your head, he’s probably willing to actually do it!

Oh god. Did his smirk just get bigger? I definitely didn’t see that right. There’s no way I could have. I mean… This is Vincent! He doesn’t smirk in public! Even if that fucking cloak is covering his lips so no one but me can see them. “We will see.”

So… is he trying to tell me to get drunk? I’m confused. I swear he’s hinting at something more than just he doesn’t want me to get drunk. But… why would he be doing that? Probably just wants to humiliate me in front of everyone or something. For all the silent attention I’ve been giving him lately. Maybe he’s just tired of it.

“And by the way, Highwind.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been told we’ve been moved to a new room. The one we were in was reserved for today beforehand.” He tosses something to me that I just barely catch, warm metal greeting my palm. “There’s the key. I expect you to return sober.”

Before I can ask him to clarify the whole our-room’s-not-our-room-anymore thing, he’s gone, heading up the stairs in that quiet way he does. And there’s that damned cloak, catching around his legs as he makes his way up to wherever this new room is. Wish I was that cloak. Then he’d always keep me near him and wouldn’t mind if I latched onto his back. Okay, that sounded really weird in comparison, but the picture in my head’s pretty. Least I think so.

Glancing down, I turn the key over. Eighty-seven, huh? Kinda far from the first one. All the others were around the twenty range. Oh well. Vincent probably doesn’t mind the privacy of being away from the others for a while. Guess I really don’t either, figuring on how much I’d like to kill Cloud.

Another drink appears before me and I down it almost as quickly as Vincent had his, thumping the glass down a little on the bar. Tossing the gil due on the polished wood, I figure I’d better listen to Vincent. I really doubt he meant the things I was thinking. More likely, he was being completely honest about using that rifle he keeps near his bed at night. Damn man’s almost trigger happy, I swear.

Shit, these stairs are creaky. Hope this room’s not anywhere near them. I don’t really feel up to being kept awake by the truly sloshed people running up the stairs. Well, considering the numbers start here at seventy-five, there’s some chance of a quiet night. Not a big one, but some. I mean, it’s hard enough sleeping in the same room with Vincent without being kept awake to think about how I’m in the same room with him.

Eighty-seven… eighty-seven… there it is. Door’s closed. Not that I expected anything else. This is Vincent I’m thinking of here. If he ever willingly left a door to the room he was sleeping in open, I’d think he’d either gone completely insane or been hypnotized or some shit like that. Pulling the key out, I unlock the door as quietly as possible, slipping inside.

The lights are still on. Guess they would be. Vince’d have to be pretty tired to fall asleep right after he left. I mean… that was only a few minutes ago, right? I hear the sound of a page turning behind me. Guess Vince is reading again. Figures. The guy’s addicted to books when he’s not clinging to a gun.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Well, I didn’t feel like getting’ plastered for once an’ comin’ back to find a gun to my—what the hell!”

His lips curve a little even though he attempts to keep his face emotionless. Or maybe I’m just seeing things again. Either way, he’s just sitting there calm as can be with his book propped up on his stomach, the blankets loosely drawn over his legs.

But… “Vince… why is there only one bed?” This can’t be good. Especially with everything that’s happened today.

Oh, and he just has to look down like he didn’t realize he was lying on the only bed in the room. “It was the only room available. All the rest were taken and I don’t particularly want to sleep outside. It is rather cold right now.”

“Uh… huh.” Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit… what’m I gonna do now? I have a hard enough time sleeping in the same room. There’s no way I’d make it through a night of sleeping in the same bed! “Ya sure there weren’t any other rooms?” I don’t even care that my voice sounds a little weird right now. I’m just worried about being killed because I won’t be able to keep myself from grabbing him during the night.

“They said there was only this one. They turned down everyone who was behind me in line.” He tipped his head to the side a little, giving me a soft look of apology. “It was either this or sleep downstairs with the barside drunks who didn’t make it back to their rooms.”

I’m starting to think sleeping with the drunks might not be such a bad idea. All I can do is shake my head as I flop down in a chair. If I have to, I’ll sleep here, even if it’s uncomfortable as hell.

“Is it really such a problem?” Am I going crazy or was there a hint of amusement in those words? Please tell me it’s the crazy thing. I really don’t like the idea of him finding all this funny. Well, if he really does think anything is funny.

“I…” He’s watching me closely, dark brows held high above his eyes. Dammit, what’s he want me to say? That I’m scared to sleep near him for what I might do? “No,” I mutter, glancing down. Suddenly, the floor’s somewhat interesting.

“Then why are you over there? Strife said he wanted to start early tomorrow so you may want to get some sleep soon. I’m planning on turning in soon myself and I’d rather not be woken by you scrambling around trying to situate yourself like you do.” Almost instantly, his eyes are back on that damned book. Wish I was that book. Wait. Hell, why don’t I just wish I’m his fucking underwear while I’m at it? That’d get me farther than being his cloak or his book.

“I’m… not tired.”

“Doesn’t matter. Like I said, I don’t wish to be woken once asleep.” There’s his matter-of-fact tone. Better not mess with it.

Well, looks like I’m not getting out of this one. Not only is he insisting I get to sleep soon, he’s also putting his book away onto the table next to him. He’s just making it so I have to go over there. Wait… he’s fucking teasing me! That bastard! He’s enjoying how awkward this is making me! Swear, if I could get my hands on him…

“Highwind.”

“Fine, I’m comin’ already!” God, wish I was in the other sense. I’m still feeling the effects of not finishing earlier and right now that’d really feel good. Get off a little tension and then maybe I wouldn’t be so ready to attack him. But I don’t think that’s likely to happen.

Vincent scoots over to give me room to sit down, but I can’t bring myself to do more than that. Only after a few more minutes of his gaze on my back do I even lie down, keeping myself as close to the edge as possible, not even bothering with the covers under me. I don’t need them anyway.

I can hear him let out a sigh behind me. Great. Now what’s wrong? “Are you planning on sleeping in all of your clothes?” I really don’t feel up to answering so I just give a quick nod. “I refuse to sleep near you while you’re still in your jacket.”

“What if I wanna—Vince! What the fuck’re ya doin’?” I attempt to sit up, but he holds tight to my shoulders where he’s already slid his hands under my jacket. “All right! I’ll take it off!” Oh shit. He’s sliding his hands again. “I can do it myself, Vince!” Proving it, I struggle to sit up and escape from the jacket, tossing it to the floor afterwards. “There. That better?” Yeah, there’s a hint of nastiness in my voice, but it’s only to cover the shaking of it. I mean, the guy fucking touched me! Doesn’t he know what he’s doing?

“Much better, yes.” Okay. Now I know I’m not imagining that curve of his mouth. Not unless I can’t see straight anymore. “Hmm…”

“What?” Okay, so I didn’t mean to snap at him, but that’s how it came out. If he tells me to put it back on, I’m gonna dump his ass on the floor and leave.

“You just look tense.” Oh god. There’re the hands again. Except… just one. The other one is more of settled on my shoulder. I’m kinda glad I’m not facing him so he can’t see me biting my lip as he starts massaging. Yeah, it feels nice and all, but that’s not really something he should be doing right now. Okay. Um… lamp. Table. Uh… door. Ceiling. Dammit, this isn’t working… need to get my mind off of him. Desk. Papers. Gun. Gun…. Rifle… Shit! Why of all times am I thinking the other meaning of ‘rifle’? Fuckfuckfuckfuck… Okay, count to one. Ten. Nine. Eight. Oh shit, his hand just went lower.

“You’re so tense. Tight.”

S-s-s-seven. Six. Five. Okay! Hand is not supposed to go that low! Fourthreetwoone…

“Goddammit, Vince, quit it!”

The motions of his hand stops, but I can still feel the fingers far below my belt. “Stop?”

“Yeah! Stop!” I jerk away, but don’t move. Even though I’m about to explode, I don’t wanna move. “I—I don’t need a fuckin’ massage!”

“But you’re too tight.” I stiffen at the whisper, all too aware of how his lips are brushing my ear. This can’t be normal. Maybe… maybe I fell asleep at the bar and I’m just dreaming. Yeah. That’s it. Just dreaming. This’d never actually— “Are you just going to sit there silently?”

All right. That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. No way, no how. Bringing my hand around, I forcefully yank his free from my pants. I hear a soft gasp from him and it only fuels my movements, convincing me to keep going. Flipping myself over is the easy part. It’s just making sure I keep him where I want him that’s hard.

He looks a little stunned as he takes in the sight of me straddling his waist, but I don’t see much more than that. No, I’ve got more important stuff to get to. Like those damned buttons on his shirt. A loud gasp escapes him as I lean over him. I’m a little hesitant to do this, but, damn it! It’s his fault. He brought it upon himself! Now to just get those buttons undone…

Shit. I won’t get anything done if I’m nervous as hell. Brushing my lips against his neck, I find that does just the trick. All thoughts of what might happen vanish as I get my first taste of his skin, instantly addicted to the unexpected sweetness. A button breaks off under my fingers, but I honestly don’t care. I’m finally doing this, finally touching him in a way I only ever dreamed of.

But I can’t help the confusion rolling through me as I feel his lips against my ear again his voice that soft whisper. “About time.” What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind. His shirt’s open and there’s already a mark on his neck. I almost feel proud, like I finally marked something I always thought I could never have. Well, I did always think that about him, but here we are now and I swear to god his hand just slid up my back.

Okay. Now I’m lost. It takes almost everything I have to pull back, but I do somehow, sitting back on my heels to look at him. I can still feel his hand on my back, smooth fingertips brushing lightly. “Vince, what’s that ‘sposed to mean?”

“What?” How the hell can he sound so fucking innocent?

“What? ‘About time’ is what. What’s that mean?” I might wanna keep going more than anything, but I also wanna know what that was about. Especially if it helps or hurts what’s going on here.

But instead of answering, he just wraps both arms around my shoulders, dragging me back down to him. “I mean that you took long enough to do something. I was beginning to think you would wait forever.” Okay… and that’s teeth scraping my skin.

It’s hard to break his hold, but I do somehow. “Ya… ya mean ya wanted me to do somethin’?” My voice just squeaked, but I really don’t care. The fact that he’s dragging me down again and his hands—both of them, mind you—are pulling my shirt over my head is a little more distracting than my voice right now. A lot more distracting, actually. “Vincent…”

“Are you just going to lie there or will you be helping?” Oh shit… there he goes with the hand again, tucking it down beneath my belt. Add in that when he’s not talking he’s sucking at my earlobe, nibbling every few seconds.

“Shit…” That’s it. No more playing. He grunts as I push him back, once again taking the lead. But his look of surprise soon changes to one of those damned smirks, just like the ones I see when I imagine them. God, they’re so amazing in real life. Makes me wanna just throw him down and… well, I guess I already have him down. Fine. Just makes things easier. On to the next part then.

Lifting myself, I struggle with the belts encircling his waist for a moment, shoving the warm leather down as much as he’ll allow when I can. Slender hips shift under me and he smirks again, telling me to do it. Fine, I can take a hint. I can take one perfectly well, thank you.

I’m not even sure what to think when I finally do get his pants off. I’m just stunned that I’m holding them in my hands, Vincent stretched out gloriously naked underneath me. Can’t say I haven’t ever seen that, but I’m quickly replacing dreamt images with the better, real ones. After all, I know this stuff is actual images. It’s not just my mind running wild at the thought of him.

There’s that smirk again as he stretches his arms up, running his hands over my shoulders. The cold metal contrasting to warm skin makes me jump a little, but they slide down my sides before I can think on it too hard. I was wrong about his hands. They aren’t like velvet at all. No, they’re like silk, gliding over me like oil, fingertips dipping to feel every tiny curve he comes across.

First things first, get rid of these pants. I’m sure that’s loads of sexy all over, someone sitting there holding a pair of bundled up pants. I would roll my eyes, but they’re locked on the glimmer his own eyes are taking on. Shit… it’s that mischievous one I kept imagining.

Maybe this is really a dream. I mean, is there really even a chance I’m this lucky? The man I’ve been obsessing over for the past few months has his hand down my fucking pants! That doesn’t just happen!

You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if it is a dream. I’m gonna enjoy it either way, dream or not. After all, not even my dreams got as far as this seems to be going. So technically I’m gaining no matter which it is, right? Right…

“Cid, you’ve stopped.”

He’s right. I’m still just sitting there, straddling his waist, his pants clenched in my hands. But… what’m I supposed to do now? Instinct is telling me to just go for him, but I kinda wanna make it as enjoyable as possible incase this is just a dream. I’m thinking over the choices, wondering, when my thoughts are shattered by a buck of his hips. Not only can I feel him under me, I just felt his length against my backside. And that little moan coming from his lips only helps to make my own pants painfully tight.

And his eyes… god, his eyes are that dark shade of red, one that lets me know he wants it as they flick down to the tight fabric. “Having a problem, Cid?” Shit… it’s amazing enough to hear him say my last name, but the way he lets my first just roll off of his tongue is magic to my body. Again I can feel that insistent throb, a reminder of how earlier’s problem never got attended to.

Oh fuck… I think it’s gonna get attended to now. By now his hand has made its way down, slipping between my legs to press his palm against me. Shit… the way he’s rubbing his hand is insanely gentle, but it’s doing the trick well enough. “Vince… dammit.”

“Yes?” Ah, shit… he’s squeezing. Okay, he’s not teasing anymore. He means this.

Grabbing both of his hands, I force him to stretch his arms above his head, a quick moan falling from his lips as I suck on his neck again. There’s no way he’s getting out of this now. He just dug himself into a thirty foot hole and I’m down there with the shovel making it deeper. Then again, I’m starting to think he has a shovel too…

“Vince, I swear to god, if you’re jokin’ them I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya.” I know that’s not the right thing to be whispering while biting his ear, but it’s the first thing out of my mouth besides ‘pleaseberealpleaseberealpleasebereal!’.

“Then I guess you had better believe when I say I’m not.” His hips arch again, his stomach pressing hard against my still-bound arousal. Dammit, I really hate pants right now. Really hate them. He bucks again, the soft whisper near my ear telling me that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Vince… do you really wanna get attacked? Though I guess it would be consensual since he’s the one messing with me.

Whatever. Not the time to be thinking like that. Just sit up, get the pants off and go from there. That’s all there is to it, right? Guess it’s easier said than done. I don’t really wanna move. But I guess I have to if anything’s gonna happen, huh?

Tearing myself from him, I let his hands go. Almost instantly, they’re on me again, running down my sides to hook fingers, flesh and metal, in the hem of my pants. Insistent guy. He’s already sliding his fingers around to meet, slipping the button holding the khakis closed free. He’s good at this. Wonder how many times he’s done this? His fingers do seem to know where to go, after all. Like he’s experienced. Or… maybe he practices on himself. Shit… now that’s a nice image.

And there goes the zipper, his eyes dilating as he catches sight of untanned skin and he lets his fingers brush the blond curls peeking out. I’m not sure why he looks so… well, I dunno what he looks like. But it’s no where near his normal expression of not giving a damn. He looks almost… excited. And here I thought I was supposed to be the one excited. I mean, I am, but it’s still a little baffling how he’s acting.

Maybe… “Vince…”

He stops his hand, resting slender fingers against my stomach. “Yes?”

His voice just has to hold that husky tone, one that makes me shiver. Well, it could be his hand creeping downward again, but I think his voice has a lot to do with it. “Is… is there a reason you’re doin’ this?”

This time he stops completely, much to my disappointment. I never said he had to, I just want to know why he’s doing the things he is. “Why, Cid.” God. It sounded like he just fucking purred. He moves his hands away to push himself up, slender lips brushing mine as he comes close enough. “If you haven’t noticed, I have a little… fixation on a certain pilot.”

“Huh—what?” Okay, that’s enough right there to make me push him back. “Ya what?”

Leaning back a little on his elbows, he gives me a soft smirk. “Have an… obsession, you could call it. One that just…” he leans up more, getting closer, “won’t…” oh god, his lips are against mine again, “quit…” Aaaaand, score.

I never thought much about kissing before, but this is enough to break all those thoughts into tiny little pieces and still have enough power to sweep them under a rug somewhere. His lips on mine, hot, pliant, supple… I never imagined this. I always figured if I did kiss him, it would be the same as anyone else. But no. He blows me away with that one kiss, leaving me shaking after the eternity he takes to pull away.

A little concern comes into his eyes and I hardly even register his hand sliding over my cheek. “Cid? Are you all right?”

What? Oh yeah. I’m supposed to answer. But how do I do that? Words… I need words. But what words? Shit… “’M fine,” I finally breathe out. Least those seem like the right words to say. Hope they are. He doesn’t look all that convinced. “Really. Ya just… caught me off guard.”

“How so?” It finally hits that he’s cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over it. His hand’s so warm. Not that I expected it to be cold, but still. It’s… calming. Makes me forget a little of the nerves that were hounding me a moment ago.

“I… I dunno. Guess I just didn’t see that comin’.” I know it’s really cheesy, but I can’t help it as my hand rises to scratch the back of my neck. Hell, it’s not really the truth, but it’s close enough to it.

Vincent’s lips curl again, but not into another smirk. No, this time it’s a soft smile. Vincent smiling… god, he’s beautiful when he does that. He should do it more often. That sight, combined with that fact that it’s me he’s smiling for, is enough to pull a small smile of my own out. “Now where’s that foul-mouthed, gruff-and-tumble pilot I know?”

What a way to speak of me. It makes me smile even more. “I think ya made him run off with that kiss.”

“Oh, we can’t have that now, can we?” He’s smiling still, his hand moving to trail over around to my nape. Now that’s an interesting feel—oh shit… Now that’s what I call a shiver. His smile grows a little more as he brushes his fingers over my shoulders. Guess he likes what he found. All I know is that I like what he’s doing.

And there he goes, leaning close enough again to the point our noses brush. I now it’s coming this time, but… I want this one to be mine. I can feel him draw in a breath as I press forward, sealing his lips with a kiss before he can move. Again, there’s that jolt, the one that tells me that all the shit I’ve been through with this was well worth it. And the fact that he’s slowly giving in to me, his arms sliding around my neck as he presses back, is only encouragement.

Before I know it, he’s lying back down and pulling me along with him, the kiss unbroken. I swear, he knows what he’s doing. And I seriously hope this isn’t a dream. Because if I wake up tomorrow alone or with someone other than Vincent next to me, I’m not gonna be a happy camper. Not at all.

Okay, mind off of that and back on Vincent. Hands are sliding along my shoulders and down my back, leaving light scratches in their wake. It’s an interesting feeling, those tiny pricks of pain mixed with pleasure. I like it, especially with the way those delicious lips are parting, a hesitant tongue brushing my own. Now that’s interesting. When did he go from being all out there to being almost… shy?

Not sure what his plan is, I follow him, parting my own lips to carefully greet his tongue. It’s a shocking sensation, the feel of another’s tongue running down the length of your own. At least when you’re not used to it. But I can’t say it’s bad. No, definitely not bad. And that hand running over my back isn’t either.

I’m a little lost as his arms draw tight around me, rolling us. One second I’m just barely holding myself above him and the next he’s above me, gazing down with a curious glimmer in his eyes. I’m not sure what to place it as, but I think I like it. It… suits him, whatever it is.

He sits up, taking the spot I had been holding earlier. Okay, now I’m not so sure about this. “Vince, what’re ya up to?”

His hair falls over his shoulders and tickles my chest as he leans forward a little. “Nothing much.”

“Nothin’ much, huh?” Grinning, I reach up and push his hair back away from his face. He looks incredible like that, dark hair framing his pale face. No, not pale. That seems too harsh a word to describe him. Milky. Creamy. There we go. Like light-colored silk. It’s about as smooth as silk also when I grasp his chin in my hand, leaning up on my elbows to whisper in his ear. He shivers at the touch on my lips to his skin. “I hope ya know there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be on the receivin’ end of anythin’ here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” That whisper alone strikes me silent and I’m only able to lie back and stare at him. He’s insanely beautiful above me, slender legs gripping my waist leading to a smooth stomach and chest. Sculpted arms stretch from perfectly rounded shoulders, his head held high on that graceful, curving neck that already has a light bruise marring the skin. This isn’t what I saw in my dreams and fantasies. No, this is better. This is real.

He arches a little, tipping his head back to let his hair tumble over his shoulder and back. He sure knows how to put on a show, that’s for sure. Knows just what to do to make a man stare. I swear he’s done this or something close before. There’s no way someone can be that naturally seductive, can they? Maybe they can. Maybe I’m just thinking too hard when I should just be appreciating the view.

A roll of his shoulders brings him straight up again, crimson eyes dark. There’s a feral need in his expression, yet a calm softness that shows he wants this for more than the sex. I’m not all that sure what to think of that, but I’m not quite ready to call this quits, especially since he’s taken hold of my hand.

Warmth covers a finger as he breathes over it, kissing the tip. I’m a little confused as to what he’s doing, but you don’t see me complaining. I’m just entranced by this whole thing, thrilled I’m a part of his performance. A gentle touch of his tongue is followed by his lips parting to let my finger pass, closing securely around the digit. It’s starting to get slightly clearer, but I keep from asking just to retain the warmth covering my skin, even that little bit.

He adds another finger, sucking on them while his tongue swirls. Never would have thought he’d have that talented mouth. Well, no, I did think it, but that was for the sake of fantasy. I never would have looked at him and thought he’d be orally talented, especially from the way he always hides his mouth behind that damned cloak.

There’s a soft sucking sound as he pulls my fingers free, leaning over me to press another numbing kiss to my lips. I feel frozen by that kiss and just let him guide my hand back. Yeah, I think I’ve got the idea of what he’s doing now. His back is warm as my other fingers trail over it, making him shudder. I can’t help but be enraptured by the gasp he lets out as he presses one of my fingers against his backside, slipping the first half in.

It’s insanely hot inside him, but the tiny flush of arousal beginning to crawl its way across his cheeks makes it seem inviting and I find it easy to press deeper. He shifts his hand a little, indicating something and I soon catch on, adding my second finger to the first. The look on his face is sheer bliss to me. That little gasp parting his lips races through me and I press on, aware from the look that the pain I’m causing isn’t anywhere near the pleasure.

That knowledge makes me a little braver. As much as I want to just have at him, I don’t want to hurt him. But knowing that I’m not makes me feel better about this. His hand once again moves and I move mine along with it, enjoying the gasp that slips free. Curious, I pull my hand back, a grin appearing with the soft whimper he lets go. He wants this as bad as I do, with the exception there’s nothing holding him back.

Then again, what’s holding me back? I want this and am finally getting it, so what am I waiting for? Why am I worried about hurting him when I should just be thinking about my own needs? Why do I even care what he feels just so long as I get off? Shit, now I’m thinking too much again. And… I’m a little confused. I mean, why, now of all times, should I start caring for him?

Another gasp brings me back to the present and I realize I’ve hooked my fingers, a motion that seems to do something amazing to him. At least that’s what his face is telling me. And the little whisper of “again”. That, of course, makes it plainly clear.

Listening to the nearly begging whisper, I bring my other hand to splay across his chest and draw downward. He jumps, his thighs tightly squeezing my waist as I ghost my fingers over his length. He’s kinda well-endowed for the slender size of him. I’m not saying I expected him to be small, but… I am a little surprised.

Heh, listen to that. He sure can be loud when given a reason, apparently. Guess he’s not always quiet. That was something I definitely didn’t see coming. I kinda figured he would always be as silent as he usually is. Apparently not, seeing as how he keeps making all those sounds.

“Cid…” He sounds so desperate calling my name like that. Almost… helpless. “Now… please…”

So insistent. I like this side of Vincent. Not that I didn’t like the other side, but I definitely have taken a liking to this one. Get him behind closed doors and he seems a whole different person, especially once he’s on a bed and out of his clothes. And speaking of clothes, he’s already squirming against my hand, trying to pull my pants down with a jerk.

He gives a slight whimper as I pull my fingers free but he seems to forget it instantly as I raise my hips to let him finish his job. Cold air rushes over me as he succeeds, but his hands cover me quickly. The chill of his metal left hand is nothing in comparison to his warm lips brushing me. God, he’s beautiful. I know I keep thinking that, but honestly, it’s all I can really say about him right now. I mean, anyone’s liable to just keep thinking that with him leaning over them, his mouth slowly opening to—oh god…

The sight of him disappears as I tip my head back, my hands groping blindly for him. Hot tongue and soft lips are working together, pressing against sensitive skin in a way that makes me bite my own lip in an attempt to not gasp. Finally my hands come in contact with silken hair and I hear a grunt as I tangle my fingers in the strands, tugging.

Then the warmth is gone, hands pressing against my hips. I glance up to meet crimson eyes, echoing the smirk on his lips. We both know what’s coming next, but I’m still a little apprehensive. Up until earlier, I had only wished this would happen, but never figured it would. So I figure I have a little leeway when it comes to being apprehensive.

It must have been showing on my face because Vincent reaches up to run a gentle hand down my chest. He gives me a soft smile with a whisper I don’t understand as he lowers himself down steadily. All I can say is that this definitely wasn’t what I expected.

His face is etched with lines as he squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip against what must be extreme pain or discomfort. It’s hard to tell which since I’m obviously not in the same position as him, but I can tell it would be at least a little painful from how tight the muscles slipping around me are. But I would be lying if I said it isn’t enjoyable. Better than any hand, that’s for sure.

Hot skin touches my own, his thighs clenching my waist as he takes a few deep breaths. The initial shock gone, I reach down to rub my hands along his legs comfortingly. My reward, a soft yet shaken smile and a flash of scarlet eyes, is soon given and I return the smile, rubbing more. At least it seems to be comforting him from the way he’s relaxing around me.

His eyes open more as he spreads his hands out on my stomach, flesh and metal equally warm. Course it’s nowhere near the warmth I feel when he flicks his hips forward, just enough to move off of me a little. His face contorts again as he once more closes his eyes tightly, but I get the sense that it’s not as painful as before. Maybe it’s that little gasp that he gives or maybe it’s just my own perceptions being dulled by the wave of pleasure running through me.

No, there’s another gasp, his mouth opening with a slight curve to his lips. That’s definitely not a look of pain. He lets gravity push him back down, another rock of his hips burying me deep inside him again. I know it probably does to him, but it just seems a little strange that something like that could… feel good.

He wiggles his hips a little once he’s seated against me again, his eyes holding that dark look of lust I’d dreamed about. Funny. I honestly never thought I’d see that for real. Forget the fact that he’s on me and I can’t move without him giving some sort of sound. I’m just still stunned he’s interested.

Okay, I know I should be way past that by now, but seriously. The guy never even gave me a single sign! The least he could’ve done was… I dunno, hit on me. And I can’t help that I’m stuck on that thought. If he’d’ve said something, maybe I wouldn’t be so shocked and maybe this would have happened a lot earlier. Or maybe—“Shit… Vince… what the hell’re ya doin’?”

He looks up from where he had been leaning over me, his coral tongue flicking out to run over his lips. There’s still a stinging where he bit my shoulder, but the look he’s giving me as he raises his hips again is just intoxicating. Forget the beads of blood welling up on my shoulder; that look is enough to make me move with him, a quick shift of my own hips making him gasp sharply.

That sound alone is enough to push me to move on my own. His hands spread more over my chest, fingers clenching just slightly at the end. I can feel the tiny pinpricks from his claws and fingernails, but it’s not an uncomfortable sensation. I don’t wanna sound masochistic or whatever that word is, but I don’t mind it when he hurts me. It makes me feel… I dunno exactly. Alive, maybe, knowing that I can feel the pain he’s causing. Okay, I’ll admit that does sound a little masochistic, but it’s still an amazing feeling.

A soft whimper catches my attention away from my thoughts and I glance up just in time to see Vincent arch in the most graceful display I’ve ever seen. His hair spilling over his toned shoulders… the light reflecting off the sheer sheen on his skin… his lips parted to let the fast-paced gasps he’s giving flow free… the muscles of his slender thighs rippling under his milky skin…

How is it that the scene above me is enough to make me feel completely drunk? How is it that I can’t do anything but stare at him as he lets loose a low moan? How is it that I can’t help but want to drink in more of him, my hips moving almost of their own accord?

I must have done something right because just as I shift upward, he gives a shout, fingers and claws alike clenching hard against my chest. I can feel his earnest motions, his whispering, his begging for me to do whatever I did again. And since I feel so lost by just watching him, of course I can’t do anything but… watch.

He slides his normal hand roughly down my body, lifting it to tangle it in his own hair as he forces himself down again. And there his lips part, the words floating from them almost dream-sounding from the light, breathy way he speaks them. “Cid… please, move… I want… I want you…”

If only I could have answered him, but my mouth’s a little dry at the moment. Oh, the things I would’ve said. I would’ve told him that he could have me as long and as much as he wanted, that all he would ever have to do is ask and he would receive, that this was what I’ve wanted over these past few months and that I would be more than happy to have it again… But I can’t speak, my tongue just barely flicking out to wet my lips as I arch my back into the movement, giving a little shudder as he cries out again.

“Cid… Please… I’m close… so close…”

I’m not even thinking about what that means now. No, I’m too busy trying to bring him to that completion he’s whispering about. I can feel him tightening around me, but I’m not ready to give up and finish this yet. No, I plan on keeping it going for as long as possible.

He gives another moan, one that means he’s obviously telling the truth about being close. For some reason, that makes me speed up even more. Not that I wanna end this, but I do wanna hear more of him before he recedes into that quiet self he usually is again. As much as I like him the way he usually is with his silent glances and quiet murmurs of comments, I do like this a little… better? Well, it’s at least interesting to hear him being so vocal. I’m not used to it. And now I think it’s definitely a good idea that we were separated from the others. There’d be no way they wouldn’t hear this. In fact, there’ll probably be a few complaints in the morning from the neighbors.

Oh well. I really don’t care about the neighbors right now. Not that I will later, but still. Never hurts to think of others, right? Even if it’s thinking along the lines of how they’re not as lucky as me right now. Yeah, maybe it’s a little self-sided or whatever, but I really just don’t care. Especially with the way he’s moving his body faster, leaning over to press a hard kiss to my lips. And of course I’m ready and willing to return it with all the force he wants.

It’s interesting when someone moans during a kiss, the way their lips part just enough to let the sound pass and the way their hands run up to press against the other’s cheeks, keeping them conjoined. Not that I’m not right behind, tangling my hands in the thick fall of his hair and pushing forward gently. The sound reverberates through my throat and then my entire body, making it hard not to just flip him over and use him till I’m done. But that just won’t do here. Nope, not at all.

The next time he lets a moan loose, I repeat it, parting my own lips to his seeking tongue. He seems almost desperate in the last few moments to keep as much contact as possible. Not only are we joined in the sexual sense, but also by the kiss and his hands wrapping around me to pull us flush together. He breaks the contact only slightly as he arches into my hands running down his back.

I can tell the last thrust I give is enough to push him over the edge and he falls, his entire body tensing as he cries out a mix of words I don’t understand. All I know is that I heard my name in there somewhere and warm, sticky liquid is being spread between our stomachs with each movement we make. He might be done, his breaths coming in rapid pants as he rests his head on my shoulder, but I’m not and I intend to finish off this time even if someone busts in here yelling about Meteor crashing right now into the inn.

His head tilts and his nose brushes against my neck as he breathes out harshly, his arms clenching tightly as I keep going. I can’t see his face, but the way he’s acting must mean he’s tired. I don’t blame him. We’ve had a fairly rough day already and now throw this in without any rest… I’m already feeling the effects, but I am determined to finish. I’ll be damned if I get stuck hanging on a thread again. I’ll. Be. Damned.

Shit… this isn’t gonna last much longer. He’s still making those little sounds against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. All of that and the fact he’s holding onto me for dear life is just helping me and sure enough, that burn’s starting to get unbearable. But god, it’s so good. Just… just a few more and… Oh shit… there we go… “Goddammit…”

He jerks against me as I come, a soft moan rumbling against my throat to join my own. Riding out the wave, I let my head flop back against the pillow as I pant for air. If he’s tired then I’m exhausted. Hell, I’m not even sure I can move right now. Okay, I guess I could, but it’s not like I want to. Not when I have something as beautiful as Vincent stretched across me, sighing in the soft afterglow.

I think I see where they get that word now as I let my eyes wander down the creamy expanse of skin that is his back. The soft sheen covering him seems to give off a slight glow from the lights overhead, something that makes me smile a little. He jumps a bit against me as I give a soft sigh, but he quickly calms as I run my hand over the back of his head. I swear, I could die the happiest damn man right now.

But it’s over before I know it, that moment, as he rises up enough to slide off of me, wincing a little. I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I’d hoped he would stay there for a little more, but no, he’s lying himself down next to me, turning the other way. Now that’s a little cold, even for him.

Rolling over myself, I grasp his shoulder lightly. “Hey. What’s that all about?”

He tips his head just enough so I see the flash of crimson that is his eye. “What?” he asks in a voice that gives away how tired he really is.

“Ya just… rolled over. That it?” Yeah, I’m a little ticked. He plays me up like this and makes me feel like the luckiest man alive and then as soon as it’s over he acts like I’m nothing. What happened to that attraction he has? It just fly out the window as soon as he got what he wanted?

I can hear his hard breath as he rolls over to face me, his expression a mix of annoyance and exhaustion. “What do you mean is that it?”

“I dunno… ya just… kinda flopped over there like that’s it. Like that’s all ya wanted.” Damn. I don’t mean to sound so disappointed, but I honestly am. I thought maybe this wouldn’t be a one-time thing.

He gives another sigh, this time his expression softening a little. “I was waiting for you to put your arm around me,” he said, acting as if I should have known that all along.

“Well, dammit… I—I didn’t know that!” I can feel my face heating, not liking the spot he’s placed me in.

But he just smiles and gives a soft chuckle, bringing his hand up to my fa—wait a minute. Vincent just laughed. Laughed. That doesn’t happen, does it? I’ve never really seen him laugh anyway. It’s kinda… enchanting.

And he sure knows when to take a chance and run with it. I’m a little more than trapped as he tips my head to the side, pressing a petal-soft kiss to my lips. I swear I just melted under that kiss. He pulls back just enough to let me see him clearly, the smile on his lips making me dizzy. Okay. Now this is all too good to be true. But…

Just to make sure it is true, I slowly reach up and pull him back to return the kiss. I can feel his smile widening a little against my mouth and I can’t help but copy the expression. There’s just something about him that makes me… well, happy.

He breaks the kiss again and gives a contented sigh as he lays his head on my shoulder. Cautious and still afraid it might all disappear, I curl an arm around his shoulders, slipping it down to his waist when I’m sure he won’t just poof away. Hey. It could happen. I’ve seen that kinda stuff in movies.

Cool metal touches my waist and I glance down over his head to where he’s gently draping his left arm over me. I’ll admit, it’s a tiny bit scary to have something I know is sharp enough to kill me in an instant that close to my body. But right now, I don’t mind any part of him, flesh or not. His head moves and I can tell he’s looking the same way I am, waiting to see what I’ll do. I guess he expects me to push his claw away or something. Instead, I just give a smile I know he can’t see and kiss his hair, bringing a hand up to entwine it with the razor-sharp claws. I’m not afraid of him and I want him to know.

He turns his head again, this time to brush his lips against my neck. I guess he approves. And judging from that smile against my throat, he’s happy I don’t mind that part of him.

I feel warm, just watching him fall into a light sleep. There’s something soft about him despite the way he hides behind his cloak all the time and is always tucked away in some corner. It’s just plain nice to see him like this, relaxed and content. I wish I could see it more often. But… maybe I will. Who knows? Hopefully this works out, whatever this is.

I dunno… Man, I’m beat. Tucking myself closer to him, I slip my hand free from his claw, reaching down to the side of the bed to drag the abandoned blanket up. Guess we did quite a number on the bed seeing as how we somehow kicked the blanket off. Either way, I’m starting to feel the chill in the air and would really like covers. He shifts against me as I spread the blanket over us, but doesn’t wake, something that surprises me. As long as I’ve known him, he’s always been a light sleeper. Hell, sometimes I would hear him in the mornings mentioning how the birds woke him up early. But I guess when someone’s fully relaxed, they just kinda… conk out. It’s kinda cute, actually, the way he’s nestled against me, his lips moving to brush my neck every once in a while. I could definitely get used to this…

~~~~~~~~

Knocking. Shit, please tell me that’s just a dream. I don’t wanna get up right now…

“Cid! Vincent! We’re running late as it is!” There’s another knock. Dammit… whoever’s yelling sure is insistent. Wish they’d just shut up already…

But I guess they’re not gonna. “Dammit, shu’up.” Damn, I sound tired. Guess I would. Am just waking up.

I roll over, unstuffing my face from the pillow I had it jammed into. Least I can breathe now. Not that it helps anything. Whoever’s out there is still knocking like they’re gonna shove down the damned door and I’m getting just slightly pissed. Just slightly.

My whole body’s sore and I can feel the muscles stretching as I arch my back to pop it. Wonder why—oh, yeah. There’s no stopping the grin on my face as I remember last night. God, that was the best night of my life. Never gonna forget that, that’s for sure. Bet Vince is thinking the same.

I glance over, expecting to see him still sleeping, his eyes closed under dark lashes. But no, he’s not there. Weird. Usually, even when he wakes up before me, he’s still in bed reading one of those books he carries around or finds. But nope, there’s nothing. Not even a book.

Sitting up, I rub my eyes, hoping I’m imagining him gone. No, still gone. There’s not even a trace he was there, the blankets tucked neatly on his side of the bed like it had never been disturbed. That’s… not right, is it? I know he slept here. I remember him falling asleep in my arms. And I remember waking up during the night and just watching him sleep. So… where is he now? Why isn’t there even a sign he was here?

Don’t tell me I really did dream it all. I don’t think I can take that. Shit… if I did dream it then I must be going crazy, being able to think up all of that. It seemed so clear, so real. I swear it was real! But… there’s no proof. The fact that I’m naked and my stomach’s got… something on it doesn’t mean anything. I like to sleep without clothes when I can and the other… well, I think anyone would get off if they were dreaming something like that.

I shake my head, letting myself flop back onto the bed. Least I’m not still at the bar. That’s a good thing, I guess. Though I kinda wish I was right now. I don’t like this, not knowing whether what happened last night was real or not. At least if I was draped over the bar or stuffed in a booth, I’d know it wasn’t real for sure. This guessing… I just can’t stand it.

All right. So what if it wasn’t real? I guess it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Probably the end of any chances with him though considering he probably heard me at least while I was dreaming. Maybe that’s why he’s not here. He came in and saw me and left. But I could’ve sworn he was sitting on the bed when I came in. Unless I imagined everything past when he gave me the key and left. Because I know this isn’t the room we were in the night before.

Giving a hard sigh, I force myself to sit up. I should get myself cleaned up and go find him, at least to apologize for dreaming of him like that and making him leave. Groaning, I start toward the bathroom and shove open the door…

…And stop short at the sight before me. Wide, crimson eyes are staring at me from the shower, Vincent’s hair falling into his face from the water pouring down on him. And there I am, standing stark naked in the doorway.

Before I can really do anything else, I whirl out of the bathroom and slam the door leaning against it heavily. My face is burning. Not only did I just see him naked, I did it without clothes! I know my face has to be bright red by now and my breathing still hasn’t slowed down to normal. I certainly didn’t expect that.

The sound of the shower stops and I stiffen, panicking a little. Shit, he’s gonna be so pissed at me! I just fucking walked in on him in the shower! The handle under my hand starts to turn and I just clamp down onto it more, making a little squeak of surprise as his voice reaches me. “Cid, what are you doing?”

What am I doing? What am I doing? I’m trying to save my skin by keeping you in there so you won’t shoot me to kingdom come, that’s what! But I can’t speak, just hold onto the handle as he tries turning it again.

“Cid, let me out already. It’s hot in here.”

That’s your own damn fault! I’m shaking now, just waiting for him to bust down the door and shoot me dead. I really don’t wanna die, but he’s slowly forcing the door open, his hands appearing on the edge of the frame. Not wanting to hurt him if the door slammed back, I move away from it quickly and practically scramble for the bed, wrapping myself in the blanket. He stumbles out of the bathroom, obviously not expecting me to let go.

God, I’m seriously shaking now, my hands clenched in the blanket like it will save me from him. He straightens and looks at me curiously, fixing his towel he has loosely wrapped around his waist. “What was that about, Cid?” he asks as he comes closer, running a hand through his wet hair. “Why hold the door?”

“I—I thought ya’d be angry at me f—for walkin’ in on ya!” I stammer softly. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be somewhere else right now.

He sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, something that makes me back up a little against the headboard. I’ve lost the protection of the blanket, but I’m more focused on his reaction. “Ya… you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be?” he asks in reply, quickly moving closer, his hands on either side of me. I’m kind of stunned as I feel his lips on mine—no, not stunned. I feel like I could die. His hands ghost up my sides, coming to rest on my chest as he pulls back and his face instantly changes from a look of calmness to one of confusion. “Cid? Are you all right? You’re gaping like a fish out of water.” One hand rises and I jump at the touch of his thumb across a flushed cheek.

“I—I—I… it… did happen?” I finally get out, staring at him blankly.

“Did what happen?” He sits back, watching me closely.

“I… you an’ me… did we really… last night?” He laughs as I finish, one of those musical laughs no one ever hears. “Vince?”

Controlling himself once more, Vincent crosses his arms on my chest, laying his head on them. “What did you think it was?”

And there goes the flush, just getting worse. Swear my skin’s gonna start burning off soon or something. “A… dream.”

“A dream?” He seems intrigued by my answer, peering up at me through his bangs.

“Mhmm… like… none of it happened.”

Again he laughs, but it’s softer this time with a hint of affection in it. “Cid, it wasn’t a dream.”

The corner of my mouth twitches into a smile as I come to terms with what he’s saying. So it was real… “So… we’re…”

“Together, if you’ll have me.” He again lays his head down, his hair tickling my chest. After a few moments of silence he glanced back up again, his scarlet eyes soft. “Cid?”

I’m silent a few moments more, trying to figure out what was best to do. Besides just freak out, anyway. Instead, I settle on shifting him off of me so I can wrap my arms around him, holding him tight. “’Course I’ll have ya, Vince. Wouldn’t dream of anythin’ else.”

He returns the embrace and I pull back enough to press a hard kiss to his lips. I almost expect him to stop it, but he just kisses back, twining his arms around my neck and tangling his fingers into my hair. Dream or no, this is the best thing to ever happen to me. Sliding my tongue against his lips, I take advantage of the chance he’s giving me with his parted lips, my hands sliding over his skin—

“Vincent! Cid! Are you two still alive in there?”

Breaking the kiss, I glare at the door. “Damn Strife. He always has to ruin shit—“ I silence at the finger pressed to my lips, waiting as Vincent listens carefully to the sounds outside.

“Maybe we have the wrong room.” Sounds like Tifa. Probably is.

“I dunno. I could have sworn it was this one. Eighty-seven, right?”

“Yeah, but maybe they had to change again? How many times have you checked this room now?”

“Twice. Once earlier and then just now.”

“And what have you heard?”

“Nothing…”

“Yeah. Vincent would at least answer the door if they were in there, wouldn’t he?” I could see a small smirk on the other’s face as he whispered a short “not with this in front of me” in my ear. I grin back, parting my lips to lick his finger a little.

“I’ll check downstairs again. Swear, if they don’t show in the next hour I’m leaving them.”

“Like you know how to captain an airship…”

I can hear them walking off as Vincent removes his finger, sitting back. “Maybe we should answer next time. Don’t wanna be left an’ I sure don’t trust the kid along with my ship for very long—“ Again I’m silenced, this time by a kiss.

Pulling away, he gives me a smile. “Why rush? We have an hour.” His hands reach down and my eyes follow as he tugs the towel free, tossing it to the floor. “Why not make another dream?” he asks coyly before throwing a leg over my waist and settling on my stomach.

“Make another dream, huh?” And here I thought all that dreaming I did would get me in trouble…