Nice Guys Come First
Title: Nice Guys Come First
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: "You're just so... nice."
Notes: In response to the 30-Min-Get-to-Know-Vinnie Challenge.
"I don't fucking get you," Cid said, leaning back in his chair and kicking his dusty boots up onto his desk, covered more with random paperwork and delivery schedules than actual free space.
"And what part of me do you not get?" Vincent asked, staying in his customary location, against the furthest wall possible.
"You're just so... nice."
"Where is the problem in that?"
Cid didn't say anything, instead just choosing to leer in Vincent's general direction.
"I guess you'd probably say Sephiroth was a nice guy too before he went cuckoo," Cid finally said, kicking a bit and pushing some of that damned paper work off. It was better on the floor anyway than in one of his messy files.
"He was when I knew him," Vincent replied, a soft smirk barely visible on his face. "But that was many, many years ago."
Straightening up and pushing his chair back, Cid stood and walked over to Vincent.
"None," Vincent replied. "It's just that it was nearly thirty years ago that I..."
"Shut the fuck up already," Cid interrupted, bringing a hand up to push away Vincent's still-wild hair. "We go through this often enough."
"That's all I get?"
"Yeah, Cid," Vincent replied, not bothering to change his posture. He didn't mind the way that Cid was advancing on him. Deep down inside, past the parts that weren't really his at all, Cid's brand of straight-up honesty and firm guidance were really quite reassuring. In a world that wasn't his at all, Vincent felt very lucky to...
The thought was interrupted by Cid's lips on his, forcing a quick kiss to become something longer. Vincent quickly yielded, bringing his right hand up to rest at the small of Cid's back.
"Cid!" Vincent stammered once he had rights to his own mouth again. He could taste the smoke and liquor left lingering and was somewhat curious just what Cid had been into before they had ended up in the same room.
"Never said I had anything against nice guys," Cid replied, looking into Vincent's wide eyes and winking. "Though I have a few nicer places in mind for fucking such a nice guy as yourself."
Ah, the things that came out of Cid's mouth, both normally and after the man had a couple of glasses, or bottles, of booze in him. It wasn't even mid-afternoon yet. And it looked to be a long night.
"Sometimes I am convinced that you don't think before you speak," Vincent said, following Cid from the office and to a bedroom.
"That would just get me in trouble," Cid replied, kicking the door shut and descending on Vincent almost immediately. The cloak went first, finding new residence on the floor.
Actually, it was one of Cid's better traits, this sort of amusing unpredictability. Vincent was already bordering on arousal from their last kiss, so when Cid grabbed him this time, it was all he could do not to press against Cid's body, looking for a little contact and a little relief.
"Naughty and nice," Cid commented, reaching to stroke Vincent's erection through thick dark fabric. "And in all that clothing, way too much of a tease."
"As if you're that much better, Captain," Vincent responded, doing what he could to undress Cid using only one hand. He wasn't comfortable using the claw - not yet. It was almost too strong, too sharp. Vincent hated using it unless he absolutely had to.
A moment later Cid had Vincent down onto the bed, nearly-naked. Vincent still felt self-conscious about his scars, angry red and white lines that ran a maze over his body. They made him feel a bit patchwork and sometimes he wasn't even sure how his body still knew to respond to Cid's touches.
Cid never judged him, Cid just... Vincent let out a loud gasp as Cid stroked Vincent's now-bare arousal, roughly thrusting a hand over it.
He had been broken in that respect, trained to crave the rough ways Cid all-too-easily picked up once Vincent explained a few things from the past.
Vincent struggled out of the rest of his clothing, not even caring to get Cid out of the rest of his. Things inside him were stirring now and the only way to sate them all was with release.
Parting his legs, he knew of nothing else to do but readily invite Cid into his spiraling darkness. Moaning again as Cid thrust two slick fingers into his body, Vincent pressed back, more ready than even he thought he was. There were voices in his mind now, wanting, needing the same thing he did. They all had the same body; they would all come together.
As Cid traded fingers for his own erection, Vincent grabbed at the bed, knowing Cid would handle his now-dripping arousal. Grabbing at the bed, Vincent rode with it, shaking as pleasure built.
Sometimes Vincent feared that he would snap, but rationality told him that not a single thing inside of him would risk losing the sort of intense pleasure that only Cid was willing to give.
White hot oblivion called for him and Vincent found himself crying out, losing himself in the bliss of orgasm. And Cid was calling his name, muttering words of reassurance yet again as his body peaked at nearly the same moment.
There was something about the way Cid looked when Vincent opened his eyes again. Not bothering to move, Cid was smirking as he licked his fingers clean of Vincent's semen.
"So, was that nice?" Cid asked, chuckling.
You are something beyond words," Vincent replied, closing his eyes again.
"That's what I fucking thought you'd say."
Drink Lemonade! Tip Your Waitress!