Opposits Attract Story One

Introduction

Crimson eyes, framed by flowing locks of raven-colored hair, stared down into a pair of sky blue eyes. The pale face, contorted in disbelief, was half covered by a higher, ragged, yet stiff-collared blood red cloak.

The owner of the sky blue eyes, which sparkled with mischief, begging the red-cloaked man to go along with his idea, was grinning. Cigarette smoke wafted up around his face, dancing upon his tanned skin, now twirling and twisting in his messy, golden hair, then lazily drifting toward the sky, where even the gentlest draft of wind would dissipate the foul smelling smoke.

The situation was made all the more humorous by the fact that the man with the crimson eyes was at least a foot taller than the other. Though, this did not seem to deter the shorter man from his pleading.

"C'mon, Vince, dun be tha' way. Ya dunno till ya fuckin' try it!" Cid whined. The shorter man stamped his foot like a spoiled child and pushed out his lower lip in what was meant to be a cute pout.

"No, Cid, I really don't think that's a good idea." Poor Vincent was looking more skeptical by the moment. And, truthfully, it was hard to blame him. The taller man had learned long ago that Cid's ideas usually ended with a good dose of humiliation.

"But, Viiiinnncceee, pretty-fuckin'-please?" The blue-eyed man whimpered. His eyes widened and watered slightly. When this did not seem to affect Vincent, Cid's lower lip wobbled pathetically.

"There is no way on the Planet that I'm going to meet your 'smokin' buddies', Cid Highwind!" Vince growled stubbornly. He placed his black-gloved hands on his hips and squared his shoulders, determined not to be swayed into another of Cid's 'brilliant' ideas.

Cid sighed theatrically and bounced on the balls of his feet, "But they'd love ya so damn much, Vinnie! Stop bein' such a fuckin' angsty angster vampy and come meet them!"

"For the LAST time, Highwind, NO!" Vincent snarled. A muscle in the dark-haired man's jaw twitched in irritation, making it quite clear he was nearing the end of his patience.

And with that, he sealed his fate. Cid pouted for another moment, then grabbed Vincent by the collar of his cloak, faster than even the gunman's cat-like reflexes could prevent. The gunman was hurled bodily into the bar the two men had been arguing in front of. Noise assaulted his ears, the stench of sweat, smoke and alcohol assaulted his nose, the floor assaulted his face... but none of this was the worst of it. No, the worse came from his introduction to Cid's 'smokin' buddies'. The names they threw at him were as humiliating as had been expected.

"'Ey! It's flyboy's butt buddy!"

"His Vampy!"

"Snookums!"

"Emo-Coffin-Boy!"

"Angster!"

"Pretty-boy!"

"Cape-Lord!"

"Coffin-Fetish!"

"Bunnycula!"

"Trigger 'Happy'! In more ways than one, I bet!"

Cid had A LOT of explaining to do.