Rising with the Sun
Cid x Vincent
The sun is just barely edging over the horizon when Cid Highwind shuffles into the kitchen of his house in Rocket Town. He walks over to the stove and automatically starts up water for tea, as is his morning routine. The pilot stares out of the kitchen windows for a moment, taking in the lightening sky. Still mostly asleep, he muses on the silence in the house. He supposes it should feel empty and lonely, but it doesn't. He knows that Vincent and Shera are upstairs, asleep. He could go up and wake them, if he wanted. But he doesn't want to be a jackass. And also, well, he kind of likes the quiet. It's meditative, he thinks, not a time to do things, or worry about what you can't change, but to simply sit with a cup of tea and watch the sun rise.
By this point the water is boiling, so Cid grabs a mug and sets about making his tea. It's nice and strong, just the way he likes it, even if it's hot enough to burn his tongue. He sets the cup down so it can cool, but taps the side and hums with satisfaction. This is much better than the weak stuff Shera always makes, he muses, and snorts. No wonder she doesn't like tea, if that's the best she can make!
Cid lets his mind wander as he sips at his drink cautiously. As usual, his thoughts end up on Vincent, who is probably still curled up under a pile of blankets in their bed upstairs. Vincent is usually the first person up, so Cid doesn't usually get to wake up with the ex-Turk still beside him. It isn't that Vincent is sleeping in. Cid usually gets up last, hours after the rest of the household. Even if he did wake up early, he would usually stay in bed trying to get back to sleep and generally being lazy. Willingly being up this early in the morning is a new thing for him.
Or maybe not, he thinks with a frown. He can remember admiring his fair share of sunrises, really admiring them and not grumbling about being up to greet them. Cid remembers that he enjoyed it enough that he would get up early nearly every morning to make a cup of tea and watch the day begin. He used to do it all the time, even if he'd had work to do later in the day. Why did he stop? It couldn't have been because he was too busy, could it? No, he thinks, and sips his tea. No, it couldn't have been because of his work on the rocket.
The rocket. A torrent of memories hits him- the eager anticipation of finally reaching the stars like he'd always dreamed, the failed launch and Shera's near death, Shinra cutting funding for the project. He had nearly drunk himself to death afterwards.
He remembers waking up the next morning consumed by depression and a raging hangover. He'd lost the Highwind to Shinra, and now he'd lost the no. 26 as well. It was a giant heap of scrap metal, a taunting reminder of what he had almost achieved. He was stuck living with a woman who he hated, for ruining his dream, and who made him hate himself, for even considering sacrificing her life for it. The recently completed Tiny Bronco was still in Midgar, a continent away. He had no reason to get up in the morning- not even any real reason to live.
After that, he had drifted. The only reason he hadn't purposefully killed himself was his stubborn refusal to take the coward's way out. But he'd become increasingly short-tempered and reckless, dividing his time between working on the Bronco or the rocket and hunting monsters in the forests and fields around the newly forming Rocket Town. He would spend his days out of the house to avoid Shera, come back at ungodly hours of the night covered in oil or blood or god knew what else, and collapse into bed. He had no care for his own life, and almost died several times because of stupid mistakes.
Even after he'd joined AVALANCHE, he would sleep in as much as he could. Yes, being with the group had given him a purpose, or at least an objective. But every day, he'd have to face the fact that he might just be doing this for no reason, that he could be killed by monsters or Shinra or Sephiroth, or they could all be destroyed by Meteor colliding with the Planet. He still tried not to wake up, because he didn't want to face the responsibility and pain and fear the day would bring.
"Cid?"
The voice of his lover brings Cid out of the dark memories, and he realizes that the tea he has been waiting to cool is now only lukewarm. He glances up from his mug to see Vincent in the doorway of the kitchen, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Something in Cid melts affectionately, and he's struck by how absolutely adorable Vincent looks when he hasn't completely woken up.
Seeing Vincent still in pajamas and with his hair mussed from sleep makes Cid smile. "Mornin', babe," he says, finally taking a healthy swallow of his now-cool tea. He watches for a moment as Vincent shuffles over to the fridge to pour a glass of orange juice, and then pulls out a chair for the gunman. "Did ya sleep well? No nightmares or anything?" he asks.
Vincent shamelessly scoots over so he can use Cid's shoulder as a pillow. "No nightmares," he murmurs. "But the bed got cold after you left." There is a pause before Vincent lifts his head to glance at Cid. "You're up early," he comments. "Is there somewhere we have to be today?" The ex-Turk seems more alert, less sleepy and more like the focused, guarded person he is during the day.
The change doesn't go unnoticed, but Cid doesn't bother commenting on it. It never takes Vincent long to wake up completely. "Nah, we don't have anything scheduled today," he reassures his lover. "Shera wants us to stick around and help her do some work on the house."
A confused frown crosses Vincent's face. "So did you have trouble sleeping, then?" he asks.
He shakes his head in response. "Vince, you know I'm a complete bastard when I'm tired," he reminds his partner. " 'Sides, I don't have anything to worry about that would keep me up. Why're you asking?"
Vincent's nose scrunches up as he frowns. "Cid, if you had your way you would never have to get up before ten o'clock," he says, staring evenly at the pilot. "And you're never cheerful when you wake up, no matter what time it is," he reminds the other man.
Cid shrugs helplessly. "Yeah, Vince, I know," he says, "I'm not sure why exactly I woke up so early, but I just couldn't get back to sleep. I was just… too awake, you know?" he gestures vaguely with his hands, trying to get his point across.
Still frowning, Vincent cocks his head questioningly. "Too awake?" he asks, waiting for Cid to find a better way to explain.
The smile on Cid's face could rival the newly-risen sun. "Well, yeah," he says, and leans in to give Vincent a quick peck on the mouth. "Why would I want to be asleep when I have you to wake up to?"