My Shadow

“My Shadow”
(An “Alliance” universe ficlet)
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(Warning: Possible spoilers for all FF7 game/movie titles)
*Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters belong to Square-Enix. This fiction piece is strictly a non-profit exercise of creativity and entertainment for people (like me) who can’t get enough of this world and the characters.*
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~My shadow. Yes, that’s what you’ve become like since I found the courage to show you how I feel, Vincent. I know that it sounds rather possessive and even a little presumptuous of me, but it’s the most fitting adjective I can think of for the way you’ve embraced our relationship. Even when you aren’t by my side, I can feel you nearby, watching and guarding over me. Some might find that sort of attention frightening…stalker-ish. To them I say you can’t “stalk” the willing and being in a position of political power, there are undeniable benefits to having a protective lover—especially when said lover can shoot a fly off the wall from clear across the room or change forms into various demons.

Ours is not what some would define as a congenial relationship. No doubt, people on the outside would look at us as a couple and wonder how on Gaia we hooked up. Thank goodness it isn’t up to them to decide what works best for the two of us. Shadow me for as long as you like, Vincent. I in turn will protect you with every resource I have. You have become my everything.~

~*************************************~

Dean waited impatiently as he ordered another drink. Director Tuesti was late and if he didn’t show up the entire deal was going to cave in. He really couldn’t afford for that to happen. He needed the WRO leader’s cooperation, at least for long enough to get things moving.

~Knew I shouldn’t have used this dive as a meeting place. Tuesti’s probably already been by, taken one look at the club and changed his mind.~

Would he do that though, when there was such important information he could be passing up? The man was a renowned engineer…probably the best the world had ever seen. As the leader of the World Restoration Organization, could he afford to pass up something that could lead to materia preservation or alternative energy resources?

His father’s death had put his family into debt and what remained of his research could pull them out of the hole…if he and his associates could get someone to make proper use of it. He looked around, silently counting his companions to be sure none of them had lost patience and left. One of them sat beside him at the table now, flirting with a girl he’d lured to his side. Dean could hear bits and pieces of their conversation over the din of the music and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell Raphael that now wasn’t the time to be trolling for booty.

Just as he was on the verge of giving up hope, he spotted a distinctive man in the crowd. It was easy to recognize Director Tuesti. For one thing, he didn’t fit in with the younger people in the nightclub. He was dressed sharply in dark tailored slacks and a two-button blazer of the same color, with a white dress shirt underneath and a bolo tie at his throat. He looked every inch the refined philanthropist, cultured and mature in a crowd of stoned and drunk college kids.

He was a handsome man with dark, wavy collar-length hair, a short groomed beard and dark eyes. Dean guessed the guy probably had a bevy of women vying for his attention. Hell, more than a few of the young women in the crowd were looking his way with more than a passing interest and it probably wasn’t just because he was overdressed for the atmosphere. The leer a couple of them shot his way as he passed by them was proof of that.

Dean nudged his associate beside him and nodded toward their contact. “Heads up. There he is.”

Beside him, Raphael followed his motion with his eyes and spotted Tuesti. “Oh yeah, I recognize him now. Doesn’t look like he brought any bodyguards with him or anything. What, is the guy stupid or something?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, watching the director move under the flashing lights and search the floor—obviously trying to locate him. “No, the guy’s a genius…otherwise we wouldn’t be doing this. Tell the others he’s here and to stay sharp. I’ll go bring him to the table so we can get started with this.”

~*************************************~

~This is ridiculous.~

Reeve Tuesti searched the dim interior of the club and wondered for the second time why he hadn’t just listened to his lover and called this meeting off. Initially he’d seen a benefit to making this exchange in a public setting. Where there were crowds, there was less chance of an ambush…so it seemed like sound reasoning when his contact insisted that he meet him in a little nightclub in lower Junon. Reeve was too worldly to believe most people would part with such potentially valuable information without some sort of angle, even if they were offered a hefty sum of money in exchange for it.

The problem wasn’t so much that he was meeting this person in a club. The problem was that the club itself was obviously a hangout for the younger generation and it had about as much class as a mutt in an alley. Reeve felt distinctively out of place. The music was jarring and too loud. The patrons were dressed in ripped jeans, t-shirts, tacky neon colors and cheap leather. There was a second floor to the place but it was open, in the form of a railed balcony. People were dancing and making out on it and some of them looked like they could easily topple over onto the main floor below at any moment. It looked like the owners of this place had tried to emulate the style of the Shockwave—Reno’s favorite elite nightclub—but it was a poor imitation.

~Not even Reno would set foot in a place like this. So much for discretion—I stand out like a sore thumb in here. People are going to see me making an exchange with this kid and they’re either going to think I’m his sugar daddy or his dealer. Fantastic.~

He was seriously thinking of turning around and heading back out the door. He could try to arrange a better place to make this exchange…like a diner or a coffee shop. Something made him look up and Reeve noticed something dark sweep past the other side of one of the big, dingy windows set against the wall of the upper floor balcony. It was gone in a moment and it was hard to identify it with the outside streetlights backlighting the window, but he could guess what it was. He smirked.

~Couldn’t resist, could you? Well, now I can’t leave. I have to save face and at least meet this fellow or I’ll never hear the end of the “I told you so-s”.~

A young man with a five o’clock shadow on his jaw and short-cropped brown hair approached Reeve. His stance and the look in his eye spoke of purpose and the director covertly reached into his sleeve, ready to use one of many hidden defense mechanisms on his person.

“Mr. Tuesti?” called the guy over the noise as he closed the distance. “I’m Dean.”

Reeve relaxed a little, recognizing the young man’s features as he’d described them over the phone. “Pleasure to meet you, Dean,” he said as he shook hands with him. “I assume you have some place picked out of the way for us to discuss this?”

“Right this way,” Dean answered, gesturing for him to follow. “You look kind of uncomfortable,” he remarked over his shoulder. “Sorry for the location. I figured the music would keep anyone from overhearing us and it’s neutral and public.”

Reeve nodded, though secretly he thought eavesdroppers weren’t going to be the only ones having a hard time hearing what they talked about. He was probably going to have to read the kid’s lips to understand everything he said. He followed Dean to the table, where another young man with shoulder-length, strawberry blonde hair sat with a dark-haired young lady. The girl looked like she was already three sheets to the wind and Reeve guessed she had nothing to do with this exchange. He was about to mutter a suggestion that Dean’s friend take the young lady elsewhere until their business was finished, but the fellow she was sitting by said something into her ear and she got up to leave.

Dean sat down next to his friend and Reeve took a chair across from him. The blonde guy smacked his girlfriend on the bottom as she was walking away and Reeve frowned at him with disgust.

“Cool it, Raphael,” Dean warned, looking at Reeve and guessing he found the boisterous behavior distasteful. “Don’t act like a frat guy in front of him.”

Raphael looked Reeve over and shrugged. He didn’t see what difference it made whether he offended the suit or not but in the interest of sticking to the plan he didn’t argue.

Dean leaned forward a little so Reeve could hear him over the noise. “Did you bring the money?”

“Of course,” answered Reeve. “I’ll need to see your offer before I agree to the exchange, however.” The guy claimed to have research documents and schematics that his father had been working on, which could pave the way for a safe means of recharging dead materia, amongst other things. Reeve was confident that if he examined the documents, he’d be able to tell whether they were legit or just a scam. His brain always clicked that way, when it came to building things. Even if he couldn’t do the research himself, he had a knack for determining whether it could actually be done.

Dean motioned to a guy near the back exit and he came forward with a thick folder. Reeve kept his expression neutral and made mental notes about his surroundings. He guessed that his contact had more than just the two guys in this place with him and while the young man hadn’t given him reason yet to believe it was a setup, the WRO leader had escaped too many attempts on his life and freedom to drop his guard. Dean took the folder and handed it over to Reeve while the other guy retreated to where he came from.

~Hmm, making sure the back exit is covered, are we? I presume you have someone watching the restrooms and the front entrance, too.~

Reeve’s expression was mildly polite, giving away none of his inner thoughts as he took the folder and unfastened the binding to look inside. He carefully pulled out the foremost document and reached for the penlight in his blazer pocket. He clicked it on and studied the scrawling formula, narrowing his eyes with interest as he turned it over in his head. With a frown, he replaced the document and pulled out another to examine it. This one had part of a schematic on it and he could tell instantly that it was plausible. A twinge of excitement almost made him drop his bland expression.

~These are…real! This really could be done! Careful old man…don’t give it away. The asking price is steep enough without you showing them just how valuable this research is.~

“What do you think?” Dean pressed.

“It appears to be legitimate,” answered the director calmly. “I’d like to look through the rest to be certain.”

“Help yourself,” the younger man said. He looked sidelong at his companion and Reeve pretended not to notice the exchange.

After scanning over each page, Reeve was certain. The documents were a wealth of information and it was amazing to him that it had come from a scientist he’d never even heard of before. Dean apparently didn’t even know half of what this research could do. Materia restoration was only the start of it. Reeve felt a moment of guilt as he began to visualize a new weapon that could be created using this information. He wasn’t supposed to be in the business of making weapons any longer. It was unsavory and his goal was to restore the planet. Unfortunately, weapons were sometimes necessary for defense.

“I think your asking price is a bit steep,” Reeve said as he put the last page back into the folder and closed it up, “but there is some merit to this research and I believe it could be used to benefit the world, with a little time and effort. I think we can proceed.”

“That’s great,” Dean said enthusiastically. His eyes scanned the club in a seemingly casual way. “How about we have some drinks and seal the deal?”

~My lad, you’d better hope I’m only paranoid. That was sloppy if it was meant to be a silent code to your friends and if you think I’m drinking anything you put in front of me, you’re a fool.~

“Happy to,” Reeve said aloud, smiling politely.

~************************************~

Moments later, Raphael came back to the table with two beers and a glass of brandy. He set the glass down in front of Reeve and took his seat next to Dean again, handing the other young man one of the beers as he did so.

“Cheers,” Dean said.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Reeve interrupted as the two young men started to raise their beers in a toast. Their expressions fell until he added; “I still have to give you the payment, after all.”

“Right,” Dean said with a lopsided smile.

Reeve took out his overstuffed wallet and counted out the large notes first, laying them on the table one at a time so that Dean could count as well. “I apologize for the large bills, but since you wanted cash it was necessary to fit it all in there.”

“No problem,” Dean answered as his eyes eagerly followed the older man’s motions. When the agreed-upon amount was on the table, he picked it up and folded it, putting it in a jacket pocket. “Great doing business with you, Mr. Tuesti. Let’s drink!”

“Just a moment,” Reeve stalled as he replaced his wallet. He almost smirked at the poorly hidden frustration on both men’s faces. “I always finish a deal with a cigar. It’s one of my little customs.” He reached into the vest pocket of his blazer and produced a quality cigar. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Dean waved a hand. “People are smoking all over the place in here. Go for it.”

Reeve nodded in thanks and took the clipper out of the same pocket he’d had the cigar in. He chopped the end of the cigar off and placed it in the ashtray amongst the remains left behind by other smokers. After putting the clipper back, he got his lighter out and placed the cigar between his lips. His mouth twitched a little as he lit the end of it and he forced himself to take a puff. Controlling the grimace that tried to surface on his face, he smiled pleasantly and pulled the cigar away from his mouth as he blew smoke into the air.

“Cheers, gentlemen.” Reeve picked up his glass with his free hand and toasted his companions. As he began to bring the glass to his lips, he saw the flash of eagerness in their eyes and he had little doubt that there was more than liquor in his drink. He paused. “You know, alcohol is a funny thing,” he commented. He very nearly laughed when their faces fell again. Raphael even groaned a little.

“Funny how?” Dean said gamely, but his jaw was tense as though he was gritting his teeth.

“People drink it to feel good,” Reeve went on, pretending to examine his glass. Both young men tensed.

~Afraid I might spot a little sediment left by whatever pill you had dropped in this?~

“Yeah, I guess so,” agreed Raphael with a frown.

“The interesting thing is, alcohol is a depressant,” Reeve went on. “Hence the advisory not to drink alone. Even more interesting is how awful it can make you feel in the morning. That’s counter-productive to the purpose, wouldn’t you agree?”

“One drink won’t hurt you,” Dean prodded.

“I suppose not,” agreed Reeve with a smile. “I’d hate to be rude and decline your hospitality.” Still, he didn’t drink from the glass. He forced himself to take another small puff of the cigar and he almost choked.

His companions finally lost patience. Reeve pulled the cigar away from his mouth and stared as Dean lifted a gun just enough for him to see it. The young man lowered it under the table in once he was sure Reeve was aware he had it pointed at him.

“Drink up, Mr. Tuesti. This’ll go a lot easier if you do.”

Reeve sighed. “And here I was hoping I was wrong.”

“If you’ve got any bodyguards waiting outside or sneaking around, you’d better tell ‘em now to stay away if they don’t want you killed,” Dean said evenly.

“I don’t need bodyguards,” Reeve answered lightly. “I have a shadow.”

Dean and Raphael looked at each other quizzically. The latter of the two looked back at Reeve like he was an escaped mental patient. “That some kind of code?”

“If it were, I doubt you could decipher it,” Reeve shrugged. “So, before I drink this nasty cocktail you’ve made for me, can you at least tell me why you’re doing this and what you intend?”

“We’re not going to kill you unless you make us,” Dean assured him. “We just need you to build some of the stuff in those papers and help us get started on manufacturing it. If you do that for us, we’ll let you go.”

Reeve frowned. “Interesting. I suppose I can’t blame you for wanting to make it rich on your father’s research. Very well, I suppose you leave me no choice. Just allow me to put my cigar out first…the taste doesn’t mix well with narcotics.”

“He’s being too cool about this,” Raphael said to Dean, keeping his eyes narrowed on Reeve.

“What’s the point in panicking?” Reeve questioned. “You’ve obviously got me surrounded and if what you say is true, you wouldn’t risk putting too much sedative in this drink to kill me. Of course, if I have an allergic reaction you’ll end up with a corpse on your hands and the WRO breathing down your neck, but that’s your risk to assume.” He held his glass up and looked at it with interest. “Oh well…bottom’s up.”

“Wait, wait,” Dean said hastily, stalling Reeve from taking his first sip. “Okay, don’t drink it. Just cooperate and come with us.”

Reeve put the drink down. “Whatever you say.” He extended his arm and put the cigar out in the ashtray, pushing down firmly and twisting it back and forth until it split. When he felt the click he was waiting for, he retreated and stood up. He straightened his bolo tie and covertly pressed down on the stone in the center of it. Dean hid his gun in the folds of his jacket and stood up just as something began to beep, just loudly enough for him and his companion to hear it.

“Is that your phone?” Raphael asked of Reeve.

The engineer smiled and took a slow step back. “I’m afraid not.”

With a sudden bang, the remains of the cigar in the ashtray exploded and smoke billowed up around the table. Both of the would-be kidnappers cursed and Dean shouted out an order. Someone grabbed hold of Reeve’s arm and he turned, recognizing the man who had brought the folder to the table. The guy convulsed as six hundred thousand volts of electricity coursed through him. Reeve was unharmed by the charge, protected by the insulation of his blazer. There were shouts of confusion from patrons as the engineer’s attacker fell to the floor, twitching.

One of Dean’s other cohorts stopped cold in his action of trying to grab Reeve when he saw what happened to the other man. Reeve smiled at him and held his arm out invitingly. “Here, go ahead, friend.”

The guy backpedaled and tripped over his own feet in his haste to get away from Reeve. The charge was expended but he had no way of knowing that and the engineer took perverse delight in his reluctance to touch him.

“Grab him, dammit!” Dean shouted as he charged through the smoke.

Convinced that the explosion and smoke came from a bomb or gunfire, people began to scream and rush for the exits. Reeve grunted as someone brave enough to risk a shock tackled him. He grappled with the man, struggling under his weight to keep him from getting a good hold on him. There was no time for him to activate one of his other hidden weapons.

Reeve was starting to think he might be in trouble…that perhaps he’d been mistaken about the movement he’d seen outside the window earlier and he was really on his own. The great crash from above as one of the balcony windows shattered gave him hope. Both he and the man he was struggling with looked up as a lean form dove through the broken window, amidst shards of glass.

“What the fuck is that?!” hollered one of the abductors as gunfire began to ring out from within the billowing folds of the tattered crimson cape. It was the last sentence he ever spoke. A second after the words left his mouth he fell dead to the floor, pierced in the forehead by a bullet.

“Shit!” Raphael shouted…and he looked like he was about to do exactly that. He pulled a gun and started shooting wildly at the figure as it jumped down from the balcony floor and landed smoothly a few feet away from him. It dodged aside and he caught a glimpse of a marble-pale face and a pair of crimson eyes. The figure returned fire and Raphael felt his hand go numb as his gun went flying. He had time for one more terrified scream when he saw the hole in his hand, before his breath was cut short by another bullet burying into his throat.

Reeve’s exultation at seeing his lover in action was cut short when he saw another opponent rushing toward the gunman from behind.

“Vincent, lookout!” Reeve shouted.

He then pulled a move he never would have imagined himself doing; he head-butted the man he was grappling with in the face. He saw stars for a moment and he was thankful that he had a hard cranium. He was relatively sure that he wasn’t supposed to clunk his forehead directly against his opponent’s but that was exactly what he’d managed to do. It threw his attacker off-balance but he still couldn’t move fast enough to get one of his weapons out. Reeve shot a worried glance at his lover, fearing he might not have heard him in time.

Vincent turned around and caught the man charging at him by the throat with his metallic claw. He snarled silently and stared into his eyes as he lifted him off his feet, his claw tightly clamped about his throat. The man choked and stared at Vincent with blatant fear, likely convinced that he was a vampire or a demon. Vincent’s red eyes bored into his as he continued lifting him as if he weighed nothing.

It defied logic that the gunman’s lean, leather-clad body should possess enough strength to lift an athletically built guy like him at all, let alone with one arm. Vincent proved to his would-be attacker that logic had little to do with his preternatural strength. He hurled him away with only a slight grunt of effort and the kidnapper flew backwards through the air until the brick wall abruptly halted his trajectory.

Reeve finally managed to twist enough to click a button on his watch and a tiny needle shot out of the stem. He jabbed it into his opponent’s neck and the man stared at him blankly before his eyes rolled. Reeve groaned as his weight fell against him. The guy was heavy and he was completely KO’d already.

“Damn,” Reeve grunted as he struggled to roll the body off of him. He heard more gunfire and the sound of running feet crunching on broken glass. He turned his head to see two of Dean’s cohorts making tracks for the back exit, while Dean himself was shooting desperately at Vincent as he tried for the front.

He almost made it.

Had Vincent been the sort of man to forgive a person for trying to harm or abduct his lover, he might have let him go.

Dean’s body jerked as Cerberus shot holes in it. Unlike the other men he’d shot, Vincent didn’t aim for the kill and the young man gagged and screamed as his kneecaps were blown off, followed by his left ear. His right hip shattered as another heavy bullet slammed into it and he fell writhing to the floor.

“Vincent, enough.” Reeve said when the young man sobbed. “The kid’s desperate, not evil.”

“I don’t care what you call him,” Vincent replied in his low, resonant voice. He walked slowly toward the whimpering young man, his boots crunching on broken glass. “He tried to kidnap you. You might have been killed.” He raised his gun again and narrowed his eyes on Dean.

“Vincent, have you ever been desperate?” Reeve asked softly.

The gunman frowned, his finger hovering over the trigger. He turned and looked at his lover as Reeve got to his feet. “An unfair question.”

“An honest question,” countered the engineer. “His plans were to force me to work for him, not to kill me.”

“You can’t know that he wouldn’t have killed you in the end,” Vincent said coldly, his glittering eyes focusing on the pale, bleeding form of Dean. “Letting you go would have meant the same thing for him as it would have meant for the men that held Rufus captive. You’d be a liability if left alive.”

Reeve groaned inwardly. “Fine, I’d be a liability and he probably would have killed me or had someone else do it. That doesn’t mean I have to do the same and you know I can’t watch a helpless man get killed before my eyes.” Killing in self defense or in battle was one thing but what Vincent was about to do was just murder.

“Then close your eyes,” Vincent suggested. “Or better yet, go to your car and wait for me. I’d rather you not see it anyway.”

Reeve considered the young man on the floor. Dean was clearly going into shock and it might actually be more merciful to let Vincent fire the final shot than stand here arguing while he slowly bled to death. There was a groan from across the room and Reeve saw movement. The man that Vincent threw was lying near the far wall and making sounds of pain. Sirens could be heard faintly, growing closer.

“If you really think you have to kill him, then do it fast,” Reeve sighed. He searched around and found the folder of documents he’d dropped during the struggle. “Personally, I think it’s unnecessary but I understand your feelings, Vincent. Either shoot him now and get it over with or leave with me now and let him take his chances with the paramedics.”

Vincent hesitated. “If I choose the second option, will you press charges against him?”

“Of course,” Reeve answered evenly. “I’ll have his incarceration arranged right away if he survives. Right now, we need to go and I need to make sure the press doesn’t get involved. We don’t need media attention like this even if we were acting in self-defense.”

Vincent put his gun away and walked with his lover out the door. He smiled softly into his collar when he heard the faint sigh of relief that issued from Reeve’s mouth. He didn’t understand the engineer’s motives or actions at times, but he admired his compassion and wit.

“How do you intend to stop the press from reporting about this?” Questioned Vincent as he and Reeve walked away from the club at a brisk pace.

Reeve pulled out his car keys and turned at the next street, thankful that he’d had the sense not to park too close to the club. “Rufus ShinRa,” he answered as he pushed the button on his keychain to turn off his car alarm. “The man has ways of stopping or manipulating the press when he doesn’t want something to get out.”

There were raised voices on the street behind them and he could hear people chattering about what had happened. By the sounds of it, the initial explosion was being blamed for the brawl starting and people were hypothesizing that it had startled some gang members into a shoot-out.

“At least if someone recognized you, they couldn’t accuse you of doing anything,” Vincent surmised as they reached the car and got in. “You appeared to do nothing except stand there and nobody saw me except for your would-be kidnappers.”

“Smart of you to wait until the place cleared out before charging to my rescue,” agreed Reeve. He smirked sidelong at the gunman as he fastened his safety belt and started the car. “I was beginning to wonder if I was on my own, however.”

Vincent looked at him, his ruby eyes softening slightly. “Never.”

“Of course,” Reeve said with a smile. “The exploding cigar worked rather well. Smelly, yet effective. I might have to keep that on my arsenal list.”

“Exploding cigar?” Vincent’s eyes widened. “The one that you were smoking?”

“That’s the one.” Reeve checked his mirrors and pulled out of his parking space.

“Reeve,” Vincent began, struggling for words. “You were smoking an explosive?”

“Relax,” soothed the engineer. “The fuse was all the way at the end and it only had the power of a typical stink bomb. I’d have had to smoke it completely down for it to blow up in my face and I had no intention of doing that.”

Vincent sighed and rubbed his eyes.

~**************************************~

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that fellow trying to come after me again,” Reeve sighed to Vincent as the gunman stepped out of the bathroom. He shut his cellphone off and placed it on his dresser. “He died on the way to the hospital. Too much blood loss.”

Vincent lowered his eyes and his lips curved upwards slightly as he towel-dried his hair. “A shame.”

Reeve looked at his black-robed companion and frowned. “Could you at least try to sound sincere when you say that?”

Vincent paused and raised his gaze, staring at him. “I’m sorry your little kidnapper friend died.” His tone was even flatter than before.

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Reeve grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Vincent’s eyes followed the motion and he took a moment to admire the sight of the other man in nothing more than a blue towel wrapped around his waist. “I’m not an actor. What you ask of me is impossible, Reeve. I’m not sorry that man died. He dug his own grave with his actions.”

Reeve decided to drop it. If the shoe were on the other foot, he knew he’d feel the same as Vincent. “Well, the good news is that I interrupted the president in the middle of something steamy and he’s thoroughly pissed off at me, now. If the swearing in the background was any indication, I’d say his guest for the night was Reno.”

“I’m sure the president understands,” Vincent murmured dryly.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Reeve agreed facetiously. “That must be why he said: ‘Do you bloody people deliberately wait for the worst possible moment?’”

Vincent smirked. “Regardless, the choice was to bother him or allow the incident to make the news. I’m sure he’d rather choose the former option.”

“He said he’d take care of it,” Reeve sighed. “I’m not going to worry over it. Tomorrow I’ve got to get those documents to the lab and start working with the schematics.”

“Don’t wear yourself out,” warned Vincent. He crossed the room to the other man and put his hands on his waist. “Sometimes you don’t know when to stop and rest.”

Reeve quickly shoved aside his stress and concerns as he combed his fingers through Vincent’s damp, raven hair. It was strange and wonderful, how easily the two of them could go from arguing one moment to being affectionate the next.

“I’ll try to slow down,” Reeve promised, drawing the other man’s head closer for a kiss.

Vincent’s lips were soft and yielding against his—strangely ironic considering that he’d torn through the ranks of those men at the club just a short while ago. Vincent was still relatively new at being in an intimate relationship after years of solitude. He and Reeve hadn’t been together for very long and he still suffered moments of uncertainty. Now he returned Reeve’s kiss with gentle passion and the engineer guessed that this time, the mood was set by concern for him rather than a lack of confidence.

The tender moment was abruptly shattered when a bright flash of lightning flickered through the window and a ground-shaking clash of thunder quickly followed. Reeve blurted a startled oath against Vincent’s lips and almost jumped into his arms. The gunman smirked and steadied his lover as the lights flickered out.

“I believe that was the most creative curse I’ve ever heard you utter,” Vincent murmured, rubbing his companion’s taught back with his human hand.

Reeve took a deep breath and waited for his heart to climb back down into his chest. “What did I say?” he asked.

Vincent’s lips quirked further and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “’Shit the bed’. I honestly don’t think I’ve heard that one before. It isn’t the most romantic comment to end a kiss with.”

Reeve winced. “Yes, well…er…I’m usually more refined with my cussing when a sudden moment of terror isn’t involved.”

“You sleep with a man that could transform into a number of unpleasant creatures,” Vincent murmured, “and a bit of thunder has you climbing the walls?”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Reeve grumbled, turning in place and backing Vincent up against the wall. “I don’t have nearly as many quirks as you.”

He pressed against the former Turk and kissed him again, sliding his tongue into his mouth demandingly. Vincent accepted the intrusion and caressed the exploring tongue with his own. Reeve sighed with satisfaction and pulled his hands down to untie Vincent’s robe. There was another flash of lightning outside but this time, he was expecting the thunder that followed. When the rumbling subsided, the lights flickered on again briefly and then died. Reeve paid no attention. He pulled his lover’s robe open and explored his alabaster, scar-striped body in the darkness. Vincent in turn relieved Reeve of his towel with one deft, smooth tug, leaving him naked for his pleasure.

The rain began to fall outside in heavy sheets. It beat against the glass of the sliding balcony door next to Vincent, coming down at an angle. The lights came on again and Reeve growled with annoyance.

“Don’t move, love,” Reeve murmured as he broke the kiss and pulled away from his companion. He strode across the room and hit the light switch by the door, darkening the room once more and ensuring that the fickle electricity wouldn’t disturb their lovemaking further. He turned back to Vincent and let his eyes rove over the gunman’s form before returning to him.

~He couldn’t look any hotter if he was on fire.~

The lights from the streets below provided enough luminance through the glass of the door to bathe Vincent’s body in a soft glow. His robe was hanging open and partly off his left shoulder, affording an enticing view of his nudity underneath. His damp hair spilled over his shoulders and chest and the rain beating against the glass was casting patterns over his ivory skin. His eyes were hot on Reeve as the engineer approached him again, suggesting that he was enjoying what he saw as well.

Reeve closed in on him and pressed him against the wall again, lining his hips up with the other man’s so that their erections pressed against each other. Vincent’s human hand cupped the back of his head, the fingers combing through his hair as they kissed. Reeve greedily ravished the gunman’s mouth for a few minutes before moving on to his throat. One thing he’d learned early in the relationship was that Vincent loved his chest and facial hair. He seemed to be fascinated by the feel of it, in fact. That fact was demonstrated when Vincent’s human hand slid out of Reeve’s hair and down to his chest.

A soft, faint moan escaped Vincent’s mouth as Reeve’s lips doted on his neck, the facial hair tickling the skin in such a way that it made him shiver. He felt the engineer’s hands skim down his body, the palms stroking his chest and stomach as they went. He clenched his metal claw into a fist to control the urge to touch Reeve with it. He was still learning to control himself during sex and he’d already given the other man some nasty scratches and cuts during other encounters.

When Reeve’s hand curled around his rigid cock, Vincent bucked into the touch with helpless enthusiasm and he whispered his name. Reeve fondled the swollen length with slow, deliberate strokes while his lips and tongue caressed Vincent’s neck. Vincent pinched one of his nipples and he was rewarded with a low gasp. He rubbed the pebbled nub for a moment before moving on to the other one, closing his eyes and moaning again from the pleasure of Reeve’s hand stroking between his thighs.

“I want it here,” Vincent informed Reeve breathlessly, ignoring the way his face heated bashfully at the words. Saying things like that aloud wasn’t nearly as awkward as it had been in the beginning—especially when the playing had already begun.

“You’ll get no objection from me,” Reeve answered huskily, his breath warming the skin of Vincent’s throat. The only problem was that having it “there” meant they’d have to stop at some point to retrieve lube and protection. Though he wasn’t keen on stopping at all, Reeve decided not to wait until things got more heated. “I’ll be right back,” he promised when he stopped his massage and Vincent gave him a frustrated look.

The gunman sighed. Lubricant was unfortunately a necessity for lovemaking but since he and Reeve kept only to each other since getting together, he didn’t see the need for a condom every single time.

“Forget the condom,” the gunman said as his lover retreated to the dresser on the other side of the room.

Reeve paused in opening the top drawer and he looked over his shoulder at the other man. “You want to go without protection?”

“I’d rather not bother with it tonight, yes.” Vincent was breathing heavily and Reeve could tell that he’d tolerate no arguments.

“I aim to please.” Reeve smiled and retrieved the lubricant from the drawer. He returned to Vincent and dropped the tube in the other man’s robe pocket. “Hold onto that for me,” he said, and then he rested his hands on Vincent’s waist and went to his knees.

“That isn’t a good idea right now,” Vincent warned, his voice heavy with lust as he looked down at his lover.

Reeve looked back at him steadily. “I disagree.”

“I’m…not stable…enough,” Vincent gasped, shivering as the other man’s warm hand gripped his stiff flesh. “You risk—”

“I risk making you come,” Reeve finished with a chuckle. “Just enjoy it, Vince.”

Vincent’s breath exploded as Reeve’s mouth closed over the head of his erection and smoothly slid down over his shaft. He tilted his head back and hissed through his teeth as the other man started sucking him off, his hands bracing his hips as his mouth worked back and forth over his cock. A rough exclamation of pleasure passed Vincent’s lips and he began to rock in time with the motions of Reeve’s mouth instinctively.

~That’s it, love,~ thought Reeve as he sucked the velvety length in and out of his mouth. He tongued the slit in the tip and enjoyed the way it made Vincent shudder. ~I swear I’m going to break you of this fear you’ve got if I’ve got to do this every single night. Not that I mind the prospect of doing this every single night—or day.~

Vincent began to pant and he groaned another warning as his claw itched to dig into Reeve’s shoulder. “Fuck, it feels too good…Reeve…”

Sometimes he just got too excited too fast and he was terrified that he’d either change forms or simply rip his lover’s head off one day while in the throes of ecstasy. The pleasure of intercourse was different from the pleasure of oral stimulation. Being taken had a calming affect on his inner demons but being sucked off made them howl with aggressive lust. He was fast approaching an orgasm and he bit his lip on a whimper, struggling against urges that could result in Reeve’s death.

Reeve only sucked harder. The “potty mouth” syndrome was something that only seemed to afflict Vincent when his lust and pleasure overpowered his good manners. In that respect, the two of them were very much alike. Unlike a certain redheaded Turk, they didn’t spout vulgarities out loud at every turn. Generally, they both kept their swearing confined to their thoughts unless the situation dragged it from their lips.

Vincent’s human hand grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled hard enough to hurt, but Reeve refused to stop and he took Vincent’s straining cock deep down his throat and began to swallow as it twitched. The gunman grunted and tensed, trembling as Reeve coaxed every drop of seed from him. The pulsing slowed and stopped and Vincent’s ragged, sated breathing was music to Reeve’s ears. He pulled back and let the softening organ slide out of his mouth and then he got to his feet and combed his fingers through Vincent’s hair.

“There, you see?” Reeve murmured. “I survived yet again.”

“Reckless,” gasped Vincent, his eyes heavy-lidded with the afterglow of pleasure.

He didn’t resist as Reeve slid his robe off of his shoulders to let it fall to the floor. The engineer kissed his jaw and throat, brushing his hair aside as he did so. Reeve gently urged him to turn around and Vincent complied, resting his cheek against the bedroom wall as his lover retrieved the lube and started preparing him. He relaxed against the intrusion when the first finger breached him and Reeve whispered encouragingly and began to pump carefully inside. His lips were warm and gentle against Vincent’s shoulder as he stroked until the gunman was relaxed enough for more.

It didn’t take long for Vincent to harden again as his lover massaged him inside and kissed his neck and shoulders. He opened his eyes and looked at the water sliding over the glass of the door next to him, his lips parting on a breathy moan. Reeve asked him if he was ready and he nodded, pressing back against the other man’s body with lazy sensuality. The consuming urgency from earlier was gone, leaving him aroused on a less dangerous level.

Reeve entered him slowly and Vincent pressed both hands against the wall and moaned his name with dazed pleasure. He heard Reeve’s voice tremble as he told him he loved him and he lifted his head from the wall and turned it, seeking the other man’s mouth. Reeve kissed him with unhurried passion and started to take him, his motions slow at first. Vincent obeyed his instincts and rocked backwards into each thrust, sucking on Reeve’s caressing tongue languidly. The slide of the other man’s hard flesh inside of him felt amazing and his breath quickened as the sensations brought him closer to another orgasm.

Reeve’s hands reached around to the front of Vincent’s pelvis and he started fondling him, massaging his balls with one hand and stroking his length with the other. The gunman voiced his approval in the form of a gasping moan and Reeve responded by taking him harder and faster. The force of the engineer’s thrusts grew in steady increments until the tender lovemaking gave way to hot, unrestrained passion.

“V-Vincent,” Reeve panted as he pushed his lover firmly against the wall and started taking him hard and fast.

Nobody he’d ever been with before had ever felt this good. The firm, twin mounds of Vincent’s ass cushioned his thrusts as he drove himself enthusiastically into his body. The increasing volume of his answering moans made his spine tingle and the rolling motions of his hips as he matched the rhythm were heavenly. He fit against him perfectly and Reeve quickly lost what remained of his control as the gunman’s shampoo-scented hair tickled his jaw.

Reeve shoved deep and held it there, panting as he filled his lover with his seed. He was about to groan an apology for coming before Vincent got his second release, but the twitching of his sex inside of the gunman stimulated him into joining the experience. Reeve smiled with relief as he heard Vincent’s telling gasp and felt his cock pulsing in his hand. He remained where he was for a few moments, enjoying the feel of being inside of Vincent without a barrier. While he blamed his inability to hold back for longer on the lack of protection, he couldn’t deny the increase of pleasure.

Reeve pulled out of Vincent and turned him around to plant soft kisses on his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured between kisses.

“Thank me for what?” Vincent questioned softly, pulling away to look at him with puzzled eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Reeve admitted. “Just…thank you.”

A quiet smile grew on the gunman’s lips. “I’ll never quite understand you.”

~***************************************~

Shortly after recovering and cleaning up a bit, the two of them lay in bed together side by side, on their backs. One of Reeve’s hands rested on Vincent’s stomach and the gunman’s human hand stroked it leisurely.

“Reeve,” Vincent whispered, turning his head to look at the engineer.

Reeve likewise turned his head and looked back. “Hmm?”

“I knew you’d get into trouble.”

Reeve abruptly looked up at the ceiling and groaned. “I almost made it through the night without hearing that.”

~***********************************~

-The End