Title: Toxic
Summary: He was not sure what it was about the brunette gunslinger that was so intoxicating but he knew that he was unable to give him up.
Warnings: Swearing, grinding, yaoi, bar grammar, horrid spelling, etc.
Disclaimer: I own not a thing. The inspiration and title come from Brittany Spears' "Toxic." Very short one-shot.
A lurid gasp spilled from parted lips as the blonde tipped his head back, his back arching away from the hard wood of the door as he leaned into the sharp nicks that even sharper fangs were leaving on his skin. All day long he was stuck waiting for the ex-Turk to return from whatever the fuck he was off doing and it was driving him crazy. The blonde tried to keep himself busy with mechanics; he was supposed to be finishing off his newest airship but every step he took was a reminder of how the gunner had shown his affection for the blonde the previous night only to vanish in the fucking morning without a goddamn word.
He was certain that the lanky motherfucker would show up, though; the guy had made it a habit of slipping through his front door at exactly seven every fucking day for the last seven weeks. And, hell, after two weeks of just shooting the shit with the elusive sharpshooter they had somehow would up in the pilot's bed with the blonde's legs farther over his head than he even knew was physically possible.
After that day it was a goddamn whirlwind of fucking that had left the blonde very sore in the morning but always wanting more and more of the gunner. He was not sure what it was about the guy; he was not overly, or at all, friendly, nor was he one for sharing, cooking, helping out with his mechanics.. Hell, the guy usually only helped him when it came to any stray monsters wandering into Rocket Town from the Nibel mountains looking for some hapless human to snack on.
...And to scratch that "itch" that he was way too fucking manly to "scratch" all by his goddamn self.
So, naturally, the blonde was waiting by the door a few minutes before seven, waiting to pounce on the ex-Turk as soon as he passed the threshold of his house. He was certain that what they were doing could possibly destroy their friendship; if things turned sour it could possibly divide their mutual friends and make things practically unbearable.
That thought did not do much to deter to him wanting to jump Vincent's bones.
Fisting the thick and tangled hair, the pilot pulled the hot mouth away from his throat before he slammed their lips together, a hot tongue forcibly entering his mouth and making the blonde's mind fog over as he gave into the sensations that were coursing through his body. Wrapping one of his legs around the brunette's slim hip, the blonde fervently kissed back as he worked to strip the thick and unimaginative leathers and cloak off of the demonic man's body, grunting when sharp teeth nipped his tongue and he was roughly pressed against the door once more.
"Patience," the brunette rumbled thickly against his lips as garnet eyes peered into orbs the color of a foggy sky. "You will damage them," the muttered protectively, making the pilot snort softly. After years of wearing the same goddamn clothes he was certain that nothing short of setting the gunner's ass on fire would damage the tattered cloak and impeccable black leather. Biting back his scathing response, Cid pulled the taller man back down for another kiss, rolling his hips up to grind their arousals together.
"Then strip an' get in the fuckin' bed," Cid snapped with no real bite, smirking at the deep rumble that the gunner let off when he rolled his hips. "C'mon, Val. Let's fuckin' get a move on. I'm horny as fuck all an'- Hey! That ain't mean fer ya ta pick me up!" A slap echoed through the house shortly before an indignant yelp.
"If you can't shut up," the gunner mutter deviously as he carried the blonde to the bed, "I will shut you up myself, Chief."
"Ya fuckin' suck, Val!"
"You can do that while I shut you up."
Cid snorted at the perverted comment but was unable to help but grin to himself at the colorful comment from usually taciturn gunner. It appeared that all that time they spent together was helping him rub off on the gunner...in a nonsexual way. With any luck, their current arrangement could bloom into something more open.
...But not so open that one of them was wearing a wedding dress or hoarding a bunch of cats and calling them their "children." That would just be sad.
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