Warnings: Swearing, relationship between men, alcohol, very minor mentions of violence.
My notes: Pairing in this one is Cid and Vincent. I wrote this for three reasons. The first one was because several persons told me to write more of this pairing, the second because I wanted to torture Cid for a bit and the third because I needed an excuse for Cid to call Vincent "pumpkin".
Cid stood outside the kitchen, his own damn kitchen, hiding from his boyfriend. If he leaned a little forward, he could see the edge of Vincent's tattered, red cloak, which the man wore even during breakfast. And Cid felt like a wuss. He took a couple of deep breaths, steeling himself. He grimly thought about something he once had heard some guy say: Murder is easy; it's getting away with it that is the problem. Not that he had murdered anyone, of course, but still... The saying was somehow fitting. Cid had a secret, a secret he didn't want Vincent to find out about. And now he was cowering in the hallway outside the kitchen, breathing deeply like a creeper.
Giving himself a few mental slaps in the face, the pilot puffed out his chest like a fighting-cock before strutting inside the small kitchen, head held high.
"Good morning, Chief." Vincent said with his raspy, cool voice as he stirred his morning tea and turned the page in the newspaper daintily with a clawed finger.
Cid almost deflated at that voice, but somehow managed to keep himself together. "Mornin', hun." he said, with what he hoped was a casual and easy voice. He had to tread lightly here, after all. Vincent may be an ex-Turk, but you never really stopped being a Turk. And being a Turk meant you were very, very suspicious and highly paranoid. If Vincent caught onto something that was off, even if it was just a small hint of it, there would be no end of that paranoia. "I'm sorry I was gone when you woke up, pumpkin." he continued. "I had to run a couple of early, unexpected errands with the Highwind."
Vincent gazed on him with slightly amused eyes. He always acted like he didn't like the pet names Cid dubbed him, but you could see that he was just a tad touched by them as well. Today, he seemed to let it slide, even if "pumpkin" was probably pushing it. "It's alright." he just said and his scarlet eyes returned to the paper again.
Firmly reminding himself to not do a cheery victory-dance right here at the kitchen floor, Cid just hummed and poured himself a cup of tea. He seriously wanted out of the kitchen right now, he didn't know if he could play this pretend-game for long before he began sweating bullets and Vincent's paranoia caught up and bit him in the ass.
He was just about to casually stroll out of the kitchen with his tea, to pretend to look at some of his ships or something, when that low, now a tad cold, voice behind him said;
"Why don't you sit down, Chief?"
It was not a question. Cid wanted to pee his pants. That voice... Gathering his courage, he just threw (what he hoped was) a dazzling grin over his shoulder before walking over to an unoccupied chair and plopping down. "Sure thing, hunny. If you wanted to have breakfast together, you should just have said so. You seemed pretty occupied with that paper and all, so I thought I would go and check on that plane that was delivered from Edge the other day and-" Oh, dear Gods, he was rambling. Cid hurriedly cut himself off, in the middle of a sentence, realizing only a second later that it just made everything seem even more suspicious. He swallowed heavily.
Vincent's face betrayed nothing. Completely blank, like it normally was, he just lifted the cup to his rather full lips, sipping it for a mere moment before carefully placing it down. His red, calm eyes met Cid's blue and terrified ones. Like a wolf that had trapped a rabbit against a wall, Cid's brain provided. Another heavy swallow. Vincent just cocked his head at him, his face and eyes expressionless.
They must have sat like that for hours, or at least it felt like that for Cid. Like he had predicted, he began to sweat and his shirt and hair was soon soaked. Vincent just sat there and stared with those unnerving eyes, not even blinking. Then the phone rang in the hallway, and Cid wanted to fall to his knees and worship the device he normally swore at as it usually interrupted his daily Vincent snuggle-time. He shot up from his seat and practically ran to the hallway and tore the phone from the wall, all thoughts about being discreet gone.
"Hello, Cid?" Shera's meek voice could be heard saying through the phone. That woman sounded like she was forever asking things instead of saying them, which usually annoyed Cid to no end. But right now Cid just wanted to give her a big, fat kiss right of the lips for providing him a way out of this situation.
"Shera!" he exclaimed, overly cheerily.
"Oh, uh... I was wondering if you could explain a few things about the notes you sent over yesterday, Captain?" she requested weakly, seeming a bit baffled over his happiness. "It should only take a few seconds..."
"The refrigerator isn't working?" Cid asked loudly, too loudly.
"No, I said-"
"Of course, Sher!" Cid shouted. "I'll get my tools and BE RIGHT THERE!" he bellowed and ended the call before the poor woman could stammer a reply. "I have to go help Shera, sweetcheeks. The clumsy thing broke her refrigerator. See you in a while!" Cid shouted into the kitchen before he, without waiting for a reply, hurriedly left the house, the door slamming shut behind him.
The pilot practically ran down the single street of Rocket Town, his and now Vincent's home, waving absentmindedly to people greeting him along the way. The left pocket of his pants felt like it was burning, and he could almost, almost feel Vincent's cold stare in his neck.
Cid returned to his house late that afternoon. Thankfully, for Cid's heart and mind, Vincent seemed to have dropped that morning's events. They made dinner, ate and then watched TV together, Cid's arm casually slung across Vincent's slim shoulders as they cuddled on the sofa. Everything was just fine, and the blonde was just about to take a deep breath of relief when the phone rang, making him jump half a meter in the air.
He mumbled something inaudible to Vincent before detangling their limps and getting up. In the hallway, he picked up the phone and hissed into it;
"What is it?" He couldn't believe why that stupid phone always interrupted snuggle-time. Then he heard her voice on the phone, and he imminently tensed. "Why are you calling me at home, you stupid woman?" Cid hissed as lowly as he could in his anger, hoping Vincent wouldn't pick up the conversation. "I said call me on my work phone. Yes, yes. I'll see you tomorrow in Edge, okay? Bye." He hung up. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a clammy hand. "Hey, doll, I'm going to bed, alright? Feeling a bit tired, I think. Baby?"
When Vincent did not reply, Cid carefully crept closer to the door leading to the living room, where he had last seen his boyfriend sitting on the couch. Once more, he could feel his pocket burn while his body went cold. This shit just couldn't be good for his heart. But where the hell had Vincent gone now, the couch was unoccupied and-
"Alright, Chief. Good night." a cool voice said from behind Cid, making the stocky man let out a rather feminine shriek of fright - that he would of course deny later, of course. Cid whipped around, and there stood Vincent in all his dark glory. Cid's mind panicked; how the fuck had the taller man gotten around him all of a sudden? He let out a slightly terrified little giggle, trying not to piss his pants.
"Hehehe, there you are, babydoll." he said, breathing a little too heavily. This shit was not good for his heart. "Nighty-night." And when he stumbled upstairs, he felt Vincent's cold, calculating eyes following him. So much for hiding the secret from his boyfriend, Cid thought wryly as he collapsed on their shared bed. But at least Vincent didn't know what the secret was... yet. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He loved Vincent, but that little shit could be scary when he wanted to.
Sleeping heavily that night, Cid was glad to notice he felt very refreshed when he woke up early the next morning. He turned to look at Vincent who was sleeping next to him. Apparently, he too had slept heavily. Cid scooted over and put two fingers to that pale, graceful neck. No pulse. Well, at least that made sneaking out easier. When Vincent slept so heavily his heart actually stopped for a few hours, almost nothing could alert him. Cid almost snickered as he left the bed and dressed. It was almost too easy. Before leaving the room, he gently kissed one cold cheek.
Time to fly to Edge.
Cid returned to his home in Rocket Town around dinner time. He landed Tiny Bronco II behind the house and walked inside the house via the kitchen door, whistling carelessly. But when he had entered, he stopped dead, suddenly very scared.
Vincent sat at the dining table. On the table stood not dinner, but a bottle of whisky, half empty. And Cid was pretty sure that particular bottle had been unopened as he departed that morning, he noted with uneasiness. And Vincent didn't even like whisky. Vincent's face was no longer cold, only calm and blank as he stared at the frozen pilot, and he didn't seem to be drunk. His red eyes betrayed nothing about that hid behind them. Over his lap, almost carelessly, a shotgun lay, making Cid's blood freeze to ice.
"H-hi, hunny." he managed to croak out eventually, stepping inside after a second of hesitation, closing the door behind himself. "Sorry I'm late and all."
"Where were you?" Vincent's voice was raspy, more than usual, and completely emotionless. But now you could almost see a hint of something boil behind those red eyes. Cid swallowed heavily.
"Oh, I just delivered some goods to Wutai with the Highwind." he said brightly, trying his best to smile. He imminently stopped that pathetic attempt as he felt his face twist in a strange grimace.
"You used the Tiny Bronco II." Vincent informed him, petting the shotgun and never taking his eyes off Cid.
"Oh, right! I meant the Tiny Bronco II! Hehehe!" Cid chuckled nervously. "I meant that. Well, I'm beat! I'm going to take a shower, alright, sweetie?"
As Cid tried to calmly walk past the gloomy man sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to shriek and flee like a little girl, Vincent simply looked at him. "Sit down for a bit, Chief." he said, and the threat was barely noticeable beneath that calm voice.
Cid did, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall and it felt like the item in his pocket burned a hole into his leg, straight down to the bone. "What is it, hun?" he asked, trying to keep up this charade for a little while longer. Perhaps he could get off the hook, like the day before.
"Where were you and with who?" Vincent asked, staring him straight in the eyes. He was still emotionless, but had started to sound a little strained. Cid could feel the whisky on his breath, and for the first time he started to be truly afraid. Not just scared that Vincent would find out the secret, but that the ex-Turk might do something horrible... to himself. The alcohol, the gun... Oh Gods, Cid thought, horror crawling inside of him, what had Vincent planned to do with the gun? Cid wanted to pry the shotgun from Vincent's clenching hands, but he didn't dare to, lest he accidentally shot someone. Like himself, or Cid.
Instead, Cid decided to end this. He fell to one knee next to his boyfriend, and Vincent looked a little baffled at his sudden drop, not understanding what was going on all of a sudden. He opened his mouth to demand once more for Cid to answer his questions, but the blonde cut him off before he could even begin talking.
Cid fumbled with the small box in his left pocket and managed to get it up. He opened it with nervous, fumbling fingers and held it up as an offering to the beautiful man... who was currently wielding a shotgun. "Vincent Valentine." he said, hearing his voice was thick with emotions; fear, love, excitement and nervousness all blending together. "I love you. Will you marry me?"
Vincent's chin didn't drop, neither did his eyes widen nor did he drop the shotgun. He didn't even said anything in response. No, he just stared at the man kneeling next to him, not blinking or breathing. He looked like he had been frozen with shock.
"Uh, pumpkin?" Cid said, now very nervous. "Yes or no?"
That seemed to do the trick. Vincent took a deep, very deep, breath before shakily reaching out towards the ring. Cid beat him to it and removed the ring from the box, before gently grabbing one of Vincent's slim, pale hands and sliding the ring onto his left ring-finger.
Only now did the undead man respond. "Yes." he whispered, so low you had to strain your ears to hear. "Of course, Chief."
Now all that tense apprehension seemed to drop from Cid, and he grinned up at his boyfriend, no, fiancé. Vincent still seemed to be in shock, and Cid felt an explanation might be suiting.
"I have planned this for a while, sweetheart. Of course, I didn't plan to propose right in the middle of our kitchen, mind you. I was going to take you somewhere nice." he grumbled.
"That phone-call yesterday?" Vincent mumbled as he twisted his hand to get a better view of the ring.
"Tifa." Cid said and cringed, understanding now what Vincent must have thought. "She helped me plan the wedding together with the rest of the guys, but we didn't want you to know... yet."
"So, lying about where you were going..."
"I took care of some errands for the wedding." Cid filled in. "And picked up the ring, of course. Took me a while to find one with rubies in it." he boasted with a wide smile. "Ain't it just lovely, hun?"
"Yes, yes it is." Vincent said, and now his voice was thick with emotions. He slid off his chair and straight into Cid's waiting arms. "Chief, I'm so sorry. I thought... I thought..."
"That I had someone on the side." Cid said softly as he embraced his fiancé. "That I was unfaithful." He couldn't say he blamed Vincent. That guy had been through so much shit in his life, and Cid swore angrily at himself in his mind. He shouldn't have tried to sneak around like that; he knew Vincent didn't even like surprises.
"I'm sorry." Vincent mumbled again as he pressed his face to Cid's throat, as if he wanted to hide from the shame.
"Not your fault, angel." Cid soothed him, stroking that wild hair to calm the normally stoic man. "All mine. But the wedding is in two weeks. At least that was the plan if you said yes."
Vincent raised his head, a weak smile on his pale lips. "And I did, didn't I? So the others are in on this as well... Maybe I should pretend to know nothing, since they went through so much trouble with helping you plan it."
"Or..." Cid said, his grin just a tad too innocent. "Maybe you should pay Seventh Heaven a visit with your shotgun, demanding to know the secret."
Vincent laughed, his short and raspy laugh that never failed to fill Cid's heart with such endless love. "Maybe I should, Chief."