Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, associated titles, characters, or any of that stuff, just copies of the original game, Crisis Core and Dirge of Cerberus. I'm not making any money off this whatsoever, I just wrote this for the heck of it.

Title: Valentine's Day
Universe: side-story to Second Chances
Pairing: Vincent Valentine/Yuffie Kisaragi (Yuffentine)
Rating: M
Warnings: explicit sexual situations, spoilers for coming chapters of Second Chances, minor spoilers for Dirge of Cerberus
Summary: Vincent and Yuffie enjoy a lie-in on Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day

They didn't get gifts for one another. First, it wasn't his way, and she had matured enough to understand and respect that. Second, neither of them really cared for the day. Once upon a time, he might have concerned himself with it and spent hours, even days, planning how he was going to make the day special for the woman he cared for. Had her life been different, had she been born anywhere except Wutai, maybe she would've had expectations for the day like other girls and young women.

Fate had been against him while it had other plans for her. The woman in his life wasn't the one he'd loved thirty years ago, it was the exiled princess of Wutai snuggled up to him as they lay in his bed. She had been born in Wutai, to a culture that did not celebrate this Christian holiday that had been corrupted by greed and insincerity.

He no longer understood the logic in reserving one day out of the year for showing how much someone loved their significant other, and she never understood it at all. Grand ventures serve to impress, but it is the little things that prove one's affection again and again. This was something they had been learning from Cloud and Tifa – both of whom were surprisingly good role models since they'd gotten together – and though the concept was still difficult for her to grasp, he was patient with her. She was still young, after all. She still had much left to learn.

While the rest of the world outside the window rushed about making last-minute preparations for the day, they remained in bed. However, they weren't asleep. The baby in the next room had woken them just moments ago, and they were waiting, listening for him to settle down and go back to sleep. Both had a hunch that the little one would become fussy the instant they dozed off, so they remained awake. In spite of the anticipation they felt regarding the baby, they were relaxed. It felt nice, lazing about like this in the warmth of each other's arms as he lay on his back with her nestled in against his side, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. They could stay there forever if forever would allow it.

She traced the defined planes of his chest and stomach, her fingers familiarizing themselves once more with him. He was all muscle and bone and skin and scars. He wasn't broad and bulky, like Barret. He was more like Cloud – light, but balanced – albeit a bit taller than their leader. In the course of events the previous evening, she'd gotten to know every inch of his body. She knew where he liked to be touched, she knew the location of every injury he still carried with him. Though she had already gotten to know all of him, she just wanted to touch him, to see him.

As if in response to her gentle, feather-light caresses, his larger, calloused hands ran over the bare skin of her back. His touches were firmer than hers, making him seem more sure of what he was doing, but they weren't without tenderness. It was as though he also wanted to reacquaint himself with the skin she sensibly kept covered, the woman she publicly pretended she wasn't. She breathed deeply as his fingertips ghosted along her side, stopping just below her breast. It was somewhat strange, feeling his bare hands on her skin after having only known the worn leather of his right-hand glove and the cold brass of the gauntlet he wore over his left-hand glove for so long, but it was a nice –very nice – change.

She allowed him to lift her up so that her face hovered directly above his when her body lay atop his. Her cheeks burned as the blood crept into her face, and she hid her face against his chest when she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes. She didn't regret what they'd done last night. She was rather happy they'd broken down that final wall and started this new chapter in their lives. It felt right, even if it had been uncomfortable at first. She was just...embarrassed, and she didn't even understand why. Shouldn't she have been embarrassed last night, when he began undressing her, when his eyes roamed her naked skin, when she finally saw him naked?

"You need not be embarrassed, Yuffie," his deep voice dumbled next to her ear. The sound was reassuring, and she nervously lifted her head to look at him. Their eyes met, and she felt her cheeks burn again. His gaze was the warmest she'd ever seen it since he showed up at 7th Heaven seven months ago, and his eyes were a little glassy, possibly due to lust. Yuffie had seen his eyes glaze over with lust before, and she'd seen that lustful look bleed into his eyes when he watched her lovingly. She'd just never seen this degree of loving warmth in his gaze. It was slightly unnerving, even though it made her deliriously happy to see this change in him.

Her delight could not override her mortification, however, and she nearly hid her face again when she became aware of how she was positioned as she lay atop him, her legs straddling his front. "Yeah, well, I can't help it," she muttered quickly. Too quickly. Damned if she wasn't obviously jumpy and embarrassed already. Upon seeing him arch an eyebrow curiously, she fought the urge to wriggle, knowing that would not help her calm down. "I was a virgin until last night. This is the first time I've been naked with a guy, yanno. A really good-looking, hot, perfect guy, at that."

He snorted at the word "perfect," and she sputtered frantically. "I mean it! You're like, I dunno, a god or something, and you've got the 'tall, dark and handsome' thing going." She quieted when the hand he'd been using to trace soft circles on her back left her shoulder to gently rest behind her neck, pushing her until their lips met in an unhurried, but lingering kiss. He wasn't trying to silence her – he had other, more effective methods for that. He was trying to ease her mind, and it was working. When the pressure behind her head abated, and she was finally allowed to lean away, she smiled warmly at him with her eyes half-lidded. When she spoke, she noticed that her voice was quieter, calmer. "I wouldn't say you're perfect if I didn't believe it, Vince."

She watched as a relaxed smile appeared on his face. It wasn't an all-out grin, as that just wasn't something she could see on Vincent's face yet, but it was a small, happy gesture, one she was seeing more and more since they got together, and especially since they adopted Riku. This smile he gave her now was specifically for her, though. It wasn't fatherly (such smiles were reserved for Riku), nor was it brotherly (he only offered such smiles to Cloud and Tifa). There was something about the smiles he gave her that made her weak in the knees – figuratively speaking, of course. She just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

The sensation of his fingers combing through her hair brought an end to her thoughts regarding his smile long before his quiet voice did. "I know," he murmured. He guided her face back down to his and reclaimed her lips softly. The kiss slowly became more heated, fueled with increasing hunger as his hands left her neck and upper back and trailed downward. She didn't care, and her embarrassment was soon forgotten when he carefully rolled them over. To avoid squishing her, he was forced to rest some of his weight on one arm, and, being right-handed, he chose to support his weight with his left. His fingers wove into her short dark locks while his right hand caressed her skin with reverence.

If last night had been any indication, what they were about to do would be just as good, if not better.

"Tell me a secret," she whispered when his mouth left hers and began trailing kisses along her jaw and neck.

"What do you want to know?" he asked before pressing his lips to her collarbone. He was going lower, and she swore her heart skipped a beat when his palm covered her left breast just as he nipped at the tendon in her neck just above her collarbone.

Struggling to keep her voice calm and failing miserably, she asked, "What are you willing to tell me?"

She heard him sigh, felt his breath against her neck. It made her squirm, it brought that strange ache between her legs back. She fought the urge to moan, it felt so delicious and sensual and...

"You are my first."

Her eyes shot open, and she stared at him, dumbstruck. She couldn't believe it. He had been twenty-seven when Hojo killed him. With the exception of Cloud -- Cloud's always an exception to the rules and laws of nature -- most guys are off having sex by the time they're fourteen. There was no way...was there? "You're serious." She did not voice it as a question, but as a statement.

Vincent nodded slowly. "I'm serious."

She didn't force him to elaborate. It was always best to wait him out; he was of the sort who withdrew into themselves when pressured to reveal very personal – and therefore highly sensitive – information like this. It was something she only did for him, and only when they were hidden in the privacy of his – their – flat. Following her return from Radiant Garden, she'd discovered that he was much more open to revealing his past if she used this approach. Given his penchant for telling the truth, there was no reason to think he was lying to her now. Even without an explanation for his prudishness, if he said she was his first, then it was fact.

Her patience was rewarded a few seconds later. "My father was highly respected, my family rather well-known. I did not wish to disappoint my parents and damage the family reputation." His voice was quiet, a soft hum against her skin as he kissed his way down her front, stopping when he came to her breasts. The minute vibrations had their intended effect on her, and she arched upward, begging wordlessly for him to make that mouth of his useful in ways that did not involve verbal communication.

"So you were saving it for marriage," she said breathlessly, a teasing smirk appearing on her face for but a moment as he allowed his hand to wander away from her chest, down over her stomach, stopping at that ticklish spot where her leg joined her body. "I hate to tell you this, Vinnie, but we're not married." She gasped when his fingers got closer…closer…

He chuckled lightly before kissing her breastbone. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Yuffie sputtered, panicking slightly. "No! I'm just stating facts."

Vincent shook his head with a tiny smile before he leaned up to touch his forehead to hers. "I don't think we have a choice in the matter."

A wanton smile crept across her face as she gazed at him with darkened eyes. "You make it sound like a bad thing." Her voice sounded sultry to her own ears. Was this how she sounded last night? Or was she silenced by her nervousness? She couldn't remember.

His eyes flashed with an almost-predatory gleam – Sprits above, how she loved his eyes. – and his voice took on a tonal quality rich and thick with emotions he was barely able to contain. "I would not be adverse to what fate holds in store for us."

She tilted her chin upward, kissing him at the corner of his mouth, but said nothing. She didn't need to say anything, ask anything. His answer was of the noncommittal type, but she knew what he was really saying. His gentle caresses, his lips on her skin, his fingers in her hair…his actions spoke for him as much as

Pain flashed through her and she hissed involuntarily when she felt one of his fingers slip inside her. She was still sore from last night's little tumble in the sheets. Would that mean it would hurt more now, or would pain give way to pleasure, like it did last night? She couldn't ask Vincent, now that she knew he was as new to this as she, and it would be kind of embarrassing to call Tifa to ask her. Not only would she feel awkward, but so would her friend. Tifa was shy and private about that stuff. She supposed she would just have to find out on her own.

Vincent had stilled when she hissed and stiffened at the intrusion. "It's okay," she whispered in an attempt to soothe him as much as herself. "Just a little sore, that's all."

"Then we'll have to take care of that," he murmured huskily.

She wasn't given a chance to contemplate his meaning – as if she were even capable of thinking clearly right now – as he slowly began to thrust with the offending digit, slowly, oh, so slowly, to ease that initial scream her body had given as a signal of discomfort. His mouth left hers to tease her breasts, effectively distracting her from any further discomfort when he added a second finger. Through the haze of lust, she wondered if men were just hard-wired for stuff like this, if it was pure instinct that drove them to pleasure their partners even if their knowledge of all things sexual was limited.

That white-hot pressure she remembered from last night slowly began to pool in her belly, growing minutely with every delightfully torturous moment that Vincent worked her over. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her jaw was clenched, teeth gritted in an attempt to be as quiet as possible so as to avoid waking Riku. Her efforts were rendered utterly useless when Vincent's thumb stimulated that sensitive bundle of nerves, making her see stars behind her closed eyelids. His mouth covered hers in a crushing, bruising kiss meant to swallow her scream while everything around her and in her subconscious shattered like tempered glass, and she felt numb, weightless…and so damn good.

His lips against her temple brought her back to reality, and she found herself looking at his smirking face. Thrice damned, if he doesn't look smug, she thought weakly, perturbed at his self-satisfaction.

She forgot her annoyance as he brought his right hand back up to take hers. The mild alarm she felt upon seeing the blood on his hand was fleeting – her hymen had been broken last night, she realized, so of course there would be a little blood – and cast aside completely in favor of focusing on him. Nervously, she reached down between them and gently touched him. It was still foreign to her, touching a man – touching him – so intimately. There was a sense of empowerment in this act. Right now, he was so sensitive, she could seriously hurt him, but she didn't want to, and he trusted her not to hurt him. She was afraid of hurting him, of breaking his trust. Just as he had been careful with her, she would always be careful with him. She would not do anything to him if he told her to stop.

It didn't scare her as badly as it had last night when his hips jerked forward in response to her gentle hand around his penis, when he uttered a sound deep in his throat that she couldn't decide was a groan or a growl. Encouraged, and now feeling bolder, she stroked him more firmly, but not hard enough to hurt, peppering his jaw, neck and chest with soft, tickling kisses. He was like putty in her hands, reduced to the same level of incoherence she'd been just moments before. Oh yes, this was definitely empowering. The Vincent Valentine, felled by innocent – okay, not-so-innocent – caresses.

"Yuffie," he panted, and she took that as her cue to stop. He had a lot left to do as it was, and they couldn't finished what they'd started if she threw him over the edge now.

A sigh of contentment escaped her as he settled between her legs and slowly pushed in. He seemed to be waiting for her to let him know if she was hurting, but she only tilted her head to the side to kiss his cheek. No pain.

She no longer knew where she ended and where he began, so lost in the feeling of him and what they were doing and how beautiful it felt to just be. His rhythm increased bit by bit as he tried to drag it out as much as possible for them even though they were still new to this and had no stamina whatsoever. She didn't care. They were getting there, slowly, but maybe it just the way she perceived it in her state of semi-consciousness, where cognizance of the mind played second fiddle to cognizance of the body. All that was left to do was feel.

The world ended in a blinding flash punctuated by her barely-contained scream and his uncharacteristically louder-than-normal exclamation of a rather un-Vincent-like curse against her neck as they both touched the Gates of Heaven before beginning their descent back to earth. Their heavy panting echoed off the walls of the room. Somehow, it seemed as if everything was at a silent standstill, or perhaps that nothing outside the window or beyond the bedroom door existed. Like they were the last ones in a world like the one they'd always known. She couldn't help but think of this concept while the fog of lust gradually dispersed in her mind and the numbness she'd felt in the final moments faded, leaving her somewhat dazed but oh, so aware. It made her feel small, insignificant, powerless, the same way she'd felt during Meteor. She wasn't alone, though, and she smiled tiredly when he rolled them over with the last of his strength, wrapping her up in his strong, gentle arms, careful not to leave her.

Once again, she lost track of time. She was content to just lay there with him forever if forever would allow it. If the way his arms refused to loosen about her lithe, naked body was any indication, he felt the same way. "When do you want to, Vinnie?" she asked quietly.

"Whenever the time is right." There was no need for him to ask what she meant; he knew her just as well as she knew him, if not better.

She laughed a little, and carefully stretched over his body. Understanding what it was she wanted from him, he leaned his head toward hers. Their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss that was short, but so very, very sweet. They broke apart, and before she rested her head on his chest once more, she murmured, "Happy Vincent Day, Vinnie."

His bemused chuckle rumbled against her ear. "Happy Valentine's Day, Yuffie."

Happy (belated) Valentine's Day (aka Vincent Day), everyone!