*This is a pairing I rarely see, and wish I could see more of. I came up with this concept mid-Lamentations and decided to go with it. It's hard to pull a naughty fic off with Aerith cuz she's such a sweety-innocent type… not to mention this is a hetero pair (cuz as sum of u kno, I'm more of a yaoi person…). Well, lets give this a shot…*
*oh yes, the disclaimyness... don't own 'em. check the prof for details*
Goodnight Kiss
Chapter One
Innocence
Vincent Valentine was extremely quiet—the kind of quiet that meant speaking was out of necessity, not for idle silence filling. When introduced, he barely deigned a nod towards the AVALANCHE members that were present as Cloud stiffly muttered the name attached to the person he was gesturing to. Slightly muted in his confusion over the cover-up of the fire he had witnessed with his own eyes, he barely said hello himself. He sort of glanced around the inn, wondering where the shade of pastel pink was in the drab colors of the group.
Before he could ask, she came bounding up the steps of the inn, with an armful of purple and white flowers. "Mountain flowers are so peaceful, Cloud, you should—oh hello!" She set her flowers aside and stood next to their leader with a radiant smile, inspecting the newest addition to their party with a warm expression, casting light on the tension the ShinRa mansion basement had cast on the party. "New member?"
"Aerith, this is Vincent—,"
And without permission or even any warning, her small hand reached out and stroked a lock of long black hair. Vincent stiffened, such an advance on his person unexpected and unwelcome. "Oh, I love your hair!"
Anyone who was paying attention seemed to hold their breath. The stranger didn't look like one to mess with, especially with the way the fingers on the arm that wasn't a claw twitched towards a gun under his crimson, tattered cloak. Vincent hadn't even realized that he'd done it. Instead he slowly backed up a step, not comfortable in the slightest with the way his still sluggish body reacted.
"Thank you," he muttered in his retreat. He was even less comfortable with the way she held eye contact. Most couldn't keep it up with him, and let their eyes slide elsewhere as they talked at him. Not Aerith. She didn't seem daunted in the slightest. Even Cloud had jumped at first sight of him. Tifa had let out a yelp, and Vincent had wondered if he even looked human anymore. He was still almost afraid to look. Especially after Cloud told him what year it was.
Thirty years. Thirty damn years. He should be almost sixty. And though there was a lingering stiffness from the coffin and nightmare ridden comatose, he was certainly no invalid, or even feeble in the slightest.
Once he was sure that the currency was still gil, he used his own money to get a room to himself that night. He couldn't share a room—not yet. No one questioned it. No one dared.
Except for the flower girl—Aerith.
His trained ears could hear her knock on three doors before his, and muffled biddings of good night followed each.
"G'night Tifa! G'night Yuffie!"
"Night Aerith."
"Ugh…"
Knock! "'Night Cloud! Good night, Barret!"
"Yeah. Night."
"Goddammit woman, why d'yeh do this every damn night!"
"Sweet dreams to you too, Barret ^_^"
Knock! "G'night Cait! Night, Red!"
"Yup!"
"Um… could you do me a favor… could you… get that spot again…"
"Right here?"
"Ahhh…Yeah… thanks so much…"
"Sweet dreams!"
Knock!
Vincent held still, stopping the inspection of the only firearm he could find in the basement that was his and in working condition. Most of his old possessions had been discarded by Hojo—yet another reason to hate him…
Knock! Knock!
He held his breath, hoping she would just give up and go away. Something about the way she looked strait into his twisted soul made him very uneasy around her.
The door eased open and he cursed himself for not locking it. Aerith peeked in with her smile that caused the dimness of the room to be much less stifling. "Vincent? Hey, I was just—,"
"I heard."
"You speak!" she laughed. "May I…?"
Before he could make up his mind, she was already inside. He got the feeling she did this to everyone else and they had tolerated—even welcomed it. There was just too much to sort out right now though. ShinRa, Hojo, Lucrecia… Sephiroth… He wasn't sure how to make it obvious—as if it wasn't—that he wanted to be alone.
Aerith leaned close, to try and get a good look at his face. Under and up—he was still tall, that much he knew. Even sitting she barely had to bend to get a good view of his withdrawn expression.
"Hey, how come you hide behind all that?" she asked. "Is it 'Phantom of the Opera' or something?"
He found himself wondering if she was trying to be cute or if she was really innocent like that. He wanted to frown, but there was a numbness over his heart that made facial expression difficult. Vincent wanted to be the first to see the damage, not a stranger.
When he didn't answer, she lost her smile. "Oh. You've got so much hate that you can't even tell me to get out. Who did that to you?"
How she could tell made him wish it were darker in the room so he could be invisible; so she wouldn't see how uncomfortable he was. "Hojo," he mumbled, wondering how long she could keep this up. Probably a long time, given her awakeness.
With this Aerith seemed satisfied. She walked around to the other side of the bed, lost in thought perhaps. Vincent kept her in his peripheral.
He was not expecting her to attack his hair again, so he jumped when her fingers started exploring his scalp, searching to remove the cloth around his head.
"What are you…?"
"Let me see—,"
"No—,"
The red head piece fell into his lap, and with only one hand he could only cover his nose and mouth. Aerith's hands were exploring his forehead now; his eyes and ears. Goosebumps erupted with the shiver that spasmed over his skin. It was desire, and it was as achingly wanted as it was shunned.
Her fingers slid down his throat and unclasped the cloak. If she hadn't been so innocent sounding before, he'd be sure that this was a blatant attempt of seduction. As it wasn't, Aerith's hands, once they had achieved their goal, were removed. She came back around to the front of the bed, taking his hand. He allowed her to remove it from his face.
"There, see? You're fine. You're even pretty!" she assured, holding up the mirror she had retrieved from the oak dresser behind them.
The sight wasn't a hideous one, but it was still shocking. Pale. Very pale, and very thin. His hair was incredibly long, and the eyes were red with the curse that Hojo had bestowed. He wasn't even positive of that anymore, thinking that perhaps the lycanthrope had been a part of his nightmares.
No disgusting appendages, no Jenova mutations… he looked human enough. Even… "pretty." At fifty something he hadn't aged a day. Still… how old had he been? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?
His relief must have shown because Aerith's smile returned. "You're hair is even nicer down. Can I brush it?"
"What?" Brush his … hair?
She was already finding a comfortable position behind him and had a brush out from her purse before he could really protest. Words were now hard to piece together, and actions difficult to portray unless on reflex. Only the Turk instincts remained, with Vincent still drowsy and buried.
"Why are you…?" he started, twisting to look at her. It was like she was either teasing him mercilessly or treating him like he was gay, which wasn't entirely true.
Aerith was far too good at reading into people, he decided as she reassured him with a smile. No and no, silly! she seemed to be saying. He couldn't help but to notice how her body made him feel physically. When she started to run the brush through his hair, it made the situation ten times worse. The goosebumps returned with a sweeping chill. It had been a long time since he had been turned on, especially after what Hojo had put him through, but she drew out a deep longing for human contact in his groin as she coaxed and teased his locks into a more manageable mop.
She was speaking—something about the flowers she had found near Mt. Nibel. He wasn't listening to the words—just her voice, which was erotic as it was soothing. He was suddenly very glad he was not facing her—one look at her young, soft body and he would be hard. The last thing he wanted to do was offend her. Why besides the fact she was a part of AVALANCHE and his only hope of getting close enough to Hojo to kill him was beyond him.
It was inevitable, his desire. Her scent was intoxicating him, reminiscent of shampoo and gladiolas and … just her…
"Are you listening?" she was asking. Vincent lifted his head slightly to show that he was… sort of. "Okay," she approved softly. "You know, it's a pity…"
"Hm?"
"You have such a sophisticated soul, but you're so … numb. What did Hojo do to make you hate him so much?"
"Stop screaming for just one fucking second, Valentine!"
A punch to the mouth and the surgical knife continued to slice down the back of his neck. Something clamped down on the nerve, causing his whole body to convulse…
*
"Don't act like you've never been fucked in the ass before!"
*
"Shut up! Siddown!" Cold bony fingers pulling at his hair, something long, hard and disgusting pushed into his mouth…
Vincent shuddered involuntarily as Aerith found that very scar on his neck. "Many things," he finally responded. His muscles twitched against his will as her fingers brushed against whatever Hojo had put there.
Aerith put the brush away quickly, undoubtedly knowing that this territory was off-limits. "It's late," she said. "And Cloud says we have a long hike up Mt. Nibel tomorrow. Take it easy, okay?" She planted a kiss on Vincent's cheek. He tried to stop the blood from rushing to his ears as she exited, turning around for one last smile.
"G'night, Vincent."
"Good night, Aerith."
End Chapter One
*More to come, not sure how long this will be (well obviously I only have till the end of disc 1 to work with… lol)*
