Author: Beautifully Twisted

Email: enigmaticangst@aol.com

Title: Keep Your Kisses for Me

Pairing: HojoxVincent

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Hojo spends some quality time with his pet project on Christmas Eve.

Notes: I'm twisted. I like it. This is for Domo and my best friend, Crystal … and anyone else who enjoys twistedness.

'Good evening, Valentine.'

Vincent looked up from the corner in which he had huddled himself into. He had remained there for the better part of four hours, Hojo speculated. Of course, it wasn't as though Vincent was free to roam about on his own accord. If he were in such a predicament as his specimen, he assessed that he would probably be in the same position. Sometimes he almost thought he felt pity for this man, but that surely could not be the case. This man, this former Turk had plotted to rob him of his greatest achievement. Sought to stop the experimentation upon Lucrecia, and for that he would never truly pity this man nor his fate. Well deserved, all it was. However, he had felt a twinge of something toward him earlier that day and had tossed him a blanket to ward of the increasing cold. He had hesitated before leaving his specimen, but what had he been expecting? Gratitude? Tears, perhaps? No … Valentine was beyond tears now. Those had stopped weeks ago. Maybe he had been searching for a glimpse of the man he once been, something that would drive him to destroy him further, anything that said he was still a human being with needs and feelings and not the lab rat he had become. He hadn't wanted a lab rat, he had wanted a shivering, hopelessly broken man. Someone who he could twist and contort and watch suffer. Surely there had to be a minute part of him that could still be broken.

So he had returned to see just how far he could push Valentine.

'Do you know what today is?' Hojo questioned, secretly amused at his seemingly obvious interest for Vincent's answer, who simply stared numbly at him. Exasperated by Vincent's continuous refusal to speak any longer, he continued, 'It's Christmas Eve.' He searched Vincent for some sort of reaction. 'You still remember Christmas, don't you?' A malicious smile twitched at his lips. Ah yes, of course he did. Even in his broken state, who couldn't remember something like that?

He imagined Vincent was feverishly recollecting fragments from his past, snatches and glimpses of a time when he was still human. Ah the deep, rewarding satisfaction of knowing that he had stolen that all away.

Kneeling beside Vincent with a sickeningly sweet smile, he said, 'Of course, you remember.' Vincent flinched slightly as Hojo traced a fingertip along his cheekbone. 'Pity no one remembers you.' Hojo pressed a quick kiss to that cheek, before standing and moving back toward his desk.

'I'm afraid I'll be leaving you for a few days. Surely you understand. Someone of my position is mandatory … especially after Gast's unfortunate disappearance.' He glanced back toward his specimen. 'ShinRa's throwing one of their Christmas parties. So I'm leaving for Midgar tonight. You remember those parties, Valentine? Yes, of course you do.'

Vincent flinched again as an image of himself drinking champagne from a flute flashed through his mind. Yes, he remembered it all too well, a mere year ago seated in the ShinRa banquet hall, whilst a toast was made to the illustrious head of the Turks, Vincent Valentine. And a future promising many things … how was it that he had ended up here? A lab rat to a clearly deranged scientist. Hojo was right, no one remembered him. No one cared. He was just another casualty among the fallen … only he wasn't. There was no unmarked grave for him, instead he was condemned to be an experiment until Hojo tired and ultimately terminated him. Yes, no one remembered him … but of course, what right did he have to be remembered?

Hojo smiled with a type of satisfaction, as he shuffled several documents into his brief case. 'I'd like to say your presence will be greatly missed this year, Valentine … but why lie.'

Vincent merely huddled further into himself, knowing it was true. He had been nothing. A pawn that had failed in saving the one he loved. What did ShinRa care about a coward? Turk or no, he was nothing. There was always a replacement. Hojo had shown him this.

He was expendable, but Hojo wasn't. Lucrecia had been expendable … just a means to an end for Hojo. It all went back to Hojo. Hojo, who would spend the following days revelling in the fruits of his labours, whilst those who had worked beside him, aided him in his inhumane experiments, were forgotten. They had all been so very fragile … so easily replaced.

'Though, I do imagine Lucrecia's absence will be noted.' He mused, 'Such a delightful woman.' He gave a short laugh, before turning to gauge Vincent's reaction.

He only stared at Hojo, waiting for these words to continue.

'Yes, she was quite the coquette at the New Year's party. If I remember correctly you kept luring her beneath the mistletoe.' A twisted grin played upon his lips, 'Yes, and she kept giving those kisses so freely … wouldn't want to break the heart of a lovesick boy.' He paused for a moment, his grin quickly turning to a smirk. 'In fact, she gave those kisses freely to everyone. Always so apt to please.'

Vincent felt his eyes burn at the memories, and hissed, 'Shut up …'

'What was that?'

'I said, shut up … you know nothing of Lucrecia.'

'Quite the contrary, Valentine.' He replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose absently in thought. 'But that matters little, now doesn't it.'

Vincent didn't reply, for what words could he say now? He had known nothing about who Lucrecia truly was. Perhaps she had been the angel he had thought would save his soul, but perhaps she had another life that he had been too blind to see. But Hojo was right, again. It didn't matter. Neither did this trivial banquet Hojo was going to. It was all travesties.

In the end who could truly be saved? So many among the damned, what did it all matter?

'Ah, gone silent on me now. I'm only speaking what was obvious to us all at the time. But, love makes fools of us all.'

Was that what it had been? Love had blindsided him? He stared at Hojo in a type of desperation, seeking answers he didn't know he wanted to hear, or ever believe.

'Yes, love makes fools out of even the wisest, Valentine.' He gave a hollow laugh. 'Love. This whole bloody season is about love … and I'm spending it with you.'

Vincent failed to see the humour, as Hojo began to laugh in hysterics. 'Spent this whole Christmas with you … you and your poor broken heart.' He leaned over Vincent, seeking out his eyes. 'Yes, I spend it with you … I hate you, Valentine. I hated you the moment I laid eyes on you. I hate you now … so beautiful … I have to hate you.' He stroked his fingertips along Vincent's features, trailing them across his cheekbones, along his chin, over the curves of his lips, before capturing them in his own.

'All those kisses under the mistletoe, Valentine … they should have been mine.' Before Vincent could fully react, those lips consumed his once more.

Vincent gave a harsh cry of protest. 'No …' He twisted against Hojo's embrace, which only tightened against his struggling.

'You are so beautiful, Valentine. And now all that beauty is mine alone.' He breathed in the scent of him, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his neck. 'You weren't Lucrecia. You gave your kisses discriminatively.'

'No … Hojo …' He thrashed at him, unwilling to succumb to this. His claw sliced across Hojo's cheek, causing the scientist to pull back abruptly.

'Bastard.' Hojo hissed, shielding his wound with his hand.

Vincent crawled further into the corner, protectively wrapping himself in the blanket. He had won the battle this evening, but he knew there would be another time when Hojo wouldn't give up so easily.

'Bah! I don't have time to deal with you tonight.' He said offhandedly as he stood and walked over to his desk to locate some antiseptic. 'Well, I will say that I shall miss your presence beneath the mistletoe this year.' He remarked in manner as though Vincent were nothing more than an attractive co-worker unable to attend. Straightening his labcoat and tie, he smiled smugly. 'Merry Christmas, Valentine.' He began to leave, but paused a moment before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a sprig of mistletoe, and tossing it toward Vincent. 'Keep your kisses for me.'

- Fin