Revealed

Those things that nature denied to human sight, she revealed to the eyes of the soul-Ovid.

Rude was on sick leave for at least a week and so a quiet vacation seemed like a nice idea. They knew better than to visit his mother; they would get no rest and it would be a constant lecture on the danger of Rude's job and how he was going to die any day now. Never mind how some of the activities Rude had planned would not exactly go over well with Ma traipsing through the living room without warning. So they rented a small house in Mideel for the week. And it rained.

It did not rain in a, oh how nice we need it, the flower beds were getting kind of dry, way. It rained like the end of the world. It came down in sheets, it hammered the windows and the walls like some vengeful god. Vincent looked out the window with a deep glare. While that glare had made grown men soil themselves, the weather apparently had no such respect.

"It's still raining."

"I noticed, Vin. It's supposed to rain all week. Come away from the window." Rude sat on the sofa in gym pants, his injuries healing nicely and barely even sore. They were hardly the distraction provided by the man at the window. His hair still damp from the shower, Vincent wore a silk bathrobe that was tied at the waist but beginning to work itself loose, showing a tempting bit of creamy white flesh.

Yeah. Distraction. Rude wondered if he could work the injury angle for some sympathy sex without appearing too decrepit to receive the benefits. "I really don't think you can threaten the rain with shooting or decapitation. Let's kill off some wine instead." Vincent turned then, the motion pulling the bathrobe a little more open and against the muscles of his chest. He pulled a bottle of Rude's wine out of the refrigerator and snagged his own off the counter on the way over to the sofa. Sitting, the robe barely covered his slim body. Rude tried not to drool, running his hand up one lean muscular leg and untying the robe.

"You don't seem like you're about to drink a bottle of wine, Rude." Vincent's eyes were closed, his face relaxed under Rude's soft massage of his calf, traveling slowly up his thigh.

"No? Maybe I want to taste something else instead." He leaned down and kissed him, teasingly, almost chastely at first. He slipped the sleeves of the robe down Vincent's arms and held him up, facing him, pressing against each other in a playful war of tongues. He could taste the heavy bitterness of the malbec on Vincent's mouth, smell the shampoo in his hair, feel the silk of the robe still pooled around his waist. It was a heady feast of the senses.

Then Vincent raised up off him, slipping out of the robe and stripping off Rude's pants nearly in one motion and coming back down in a hungry bruising kiss, a growl forming in the back of his throat as they met, heated flesh to heated flesh. It occurred to Rude, not for the first time, how badly the gunman had been shaken in the battle with the ghouls and he reached one arm up to wrap around him in comfort. It had the accidental effect of pulling their hips in even closer.

"Shit. Fuck!" Vincent's only response to Rude's outburst was to shut his eyes even tighter and give a little keening moan. Rude smiled. He thought he had cataloged most of Vincent's aroused noises but this was a new one and it made him even harder. His lips parted and his breath came in little gasps against Rude's collarbone which may or may not have been the most erotic thing he had ever felt and seen in his life. He reached his hand down between them, wrapping it around his and Vincent's touching erections and began to pump them together. Gods, this is so fucking high school, we can't even make it to the bedroom…But it didn't matter. For his own part, Rude could not have gotten off the sofa had his life depended on it. He was too far gone. Vincent's eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, as if trying to get some kind of grip on reality and giving up before thrusting helplessly into Rude's hand.

The friction was too much; Rude came all over them both and Vincent stiffened as he followed soon after, throwing his head back and exposing a lovely throat to Rude's mouth, and letting out his breath in a long aaaahhhh.

That was a noise Rude had heard before, but he didn't mind hearing it again.

"Vin."

"Hmmmm?"

"We need to clean up."

"Okay." Vincent's head came down and tucked into the curve of Rude's neck, the silk of his hair sticking to them both now. He made a satisfied little sigh and seemed for all the world to be falling asleep where he sat.

"Ah. You need to move."

Vincent blinked. Finally he unwound his long limbs and went into the bathroom, bringing back a warm towel so Rude wouldn't have to get up. "I apologize. I completely forgot about your stitches for a moment there." He curled back into his original position on the sofa, long legs swung back over Rude's lap.

"The rain, too, it seems. And the stitches are fine. I'll let you know if they hurt." Rude sipped his wine and went back to admiring a silk robed Vincent. He preferred a naked Vincent but his lover was still self conscious about his scars, and Rude let him be for now. He'd convince the man one way or another he was beautiful but it would take time.

"You have very persuasive hands, Rude. I had no intentions of ravishing you on the sofa."

"That makes one of us. I intend to ravish you on every flat surface in this place until the rain lets up. And possibly some curved ones as well. And the forecast is quite promising."

As if to make liars of them, the rain let up for a few hours and they decided to go out. Vacation did nice things to Vincent, namely, made him forget that he had to drink proper temperature vintage wine and use the correct fork for his prawn appetizer. Rude admired Vacation Vincent from the small dark bar they had chosen for its proximity to their rental house, just in case the rain started up again.

Vincent studied the huge greasy cheeseburger, trying to figure out a way to eat it one handed so he didn't have to get burger grease out of his gauntlet. Eventually he sliced it in half and bit into it in a way that made Rude's pants feel suddenly tight. Was there anything the man did that didn't look sexy as all hell? Probably not. Rude tried very hard to not look at the way he swallowed the dark brown ale they had chosen—even with a cheeseburger his lover had insisted on a proper food pairing—but failed miserably. He sighed and turned his attention to his own burger.

"This is quite good. Thank you for insisting we go out, even if we do get soaked on the way back."

"I thought it might be a nice idea. Reno found this place when we were here, oh, doing some kind of bullshit for Rufus. Always bring Reno along somewhere new. He's like a bloodhound, finding food and booze."

"Color me surprised." Though the mention of Rufus briefly brought a thin line of anger to Vincent's mouth. Obviously, that wound wasn't healing as quickly as Rude's stitches. But several more glasses of ale and easy conversation moved the mood back to an warm sensuality that seemed to be the norm between the two of them. "It's raining again. Let's order another pitcher of this beer. It's excellent."

Vacation Vincent also liked to tie one on, apparently. Rude waved down the bartender for a refill.

Rude woke sometime in the deep of night. He wasn't sure when and, it being vacation, he wasn't terribly motivated to find out. Vincent was curled into his side. He smiled at the sensation; the gunman seemed almost weightless with his height and slight frame, making his strength even more surprising when he displayed it. Now, in sleep, he looked nearly delicate. Rude knew better and was amused at his own fleeting protective instinct. He thought back to what Reno had told him, of the confrontation on Rufus' office.

Love.

They never spoke of it aloud but here, in the silence of night, it roared loud as a gunshot in Rude's mind. Vincent had gone with him to protect him. Because he loved him. And had ripped out the throat of a man who had tried to kill him. While it would never make the text of a greeting card, he figured it would do nicely for their fucked up little world. He leaned over and kissed soft, sleeping lips.

"Hmmm? What time is it?"

"Night." He kissed again. Vincent opened his mouth to the pleasant intrusion. Rude absolutely loved kissing Vincent; the man had the most wonderful mouth. Soft and yielding one moment and aggressively devouring the next, it was the hottest experience he had ever known. And he was drowning in it now as he rolled them over to pull Vincent on top of him. They kissed without urgency, without hurry. They had all week, after all.

Rude thought back to one evening when he was working late, alone, back when they were still supposedly carrying on in secret. Vincent had slipped past building security and into his office undetected. Even Rude himself had not realized he was in the room until he was close enough to smell, and had slid over his body like satin, unzipping his pants to ride him senseless right there in his desk chair. Rude still had no idea how, or even if, the man had disabled the cameras and had no intention of asking.

His mission report had been late that week. It was one of the first red flags to pique Reno's interest.

The memory still made Rude sweat, even in the air conditioning of his office. Especially in the air conditioning of his office. And here, now. "We are insatiable." Vincent muttered when they came up for air.

"We are on vacation." Rude ran his hand up the lean, pale torso and smiled. "I love to touch you."

"I noticed. I won't stop you." Pillow talk wasn't their specialty; they tended to be men of action and not words. But the darkness and the rain made them both relaxed, like a hot bath or a bottle of wine. But Rude was now rubbing Vincent's ass through his sleep pants, wandering down occasionally to his inner thigh and sentence structure was becoming…challenging.

The next kiss was not nearly so relaxed. The next thing Rude knew, Vincent had them both naked and had all but thrown Rude's body on top of him as he shoved the lube into his hand. He grinned. One thing about sex with Vincent; you seldom had to guess what the man wanted. "Gods, give me a minute." He slipped one finger inside him, trying to massage him into relaxing and taking his time but he was grinding up into Rude's erection with such painful and sweet abandon, he could tell that plan was just going straight to hell right then. "Or hell, I guess not." They were obviously going to have a repeat of the sofa episode if Rude didn't get on things and quick, and give Vincent his way.

Rude would file a complaint with management later.

Right.

He half laughed, half groaned as he prepared himself and made some attempt at entering Vincent slowly, or at least not too quickly for comfort. They kissed deeply, touching, stroking, well more like groping until their thrusts built to a steady tempo. Rude raised up so he could look down at his lover; distracted by sex, he forgot to be self conscious about his appearance and Rude could admire him without interruption. The down side of that plan, of course, was that Vincent's beauty only added to his arousal and he reached down almost unwillingly to grasp the man's straining erection.

Vincent bucked his hips in response, the slight change in angle was Rude's undoing. He plunged into him again and again, trying to relieve the growing pressure and sweetness pooling in his groin until he came, hard, Vincent with him, the both of them riding out the waves of pleasure until they lay spent and sated in the damp bedsheets together.

"Damn." Vincent gasped a little as Rude pulled out. "Your…"

"My stitches are fine. They are in one arm, which you didn't touch, and my forehead which I'm keeping away from you at the moment. The rest of me however, is a different story." In minutes, they were both sound asleep.

They joked on the trip back that at least returning to Edge would give them some rest. Of course it wouldn't; Vincent wasn't exaggerating when he said they were insatiable. In public, it was hard to tell they were even a couple.

In private, well, that was another matter entirely.

The week had been good for them both. Much like the week they had spent the previous year in Costa, they returned relaxed, comfortable in their own space and lacking the air of pinched tension that had sent them fleeing the city earlier. How much of it was time and distance from the attack that had injured Rude and how much was endorphin overload from six days of constant sex, neither wanted to calculate.

The met at Seventh Heaven, a common habit, before going to dinner with Reno and Cloud. Tifa hadn't seen Rude since he was injured and of course had to shove her boobs in his face as a show of concern, Vincent noted with a low growl.

He wasn't exactly familiar with the concept of amiable exes, after all.

"Rude? Do you think someone should check on Reno and Cloud? They have been in the ah…bathroom a while."

"Oh gods. You never know with them. At least the two of you are, you know…"

"Gays of propriety?" Vincent helpfully provided. Rude snorted. "What?"

"Propriety. Sure. You were very proper that last day by the patio doors," he whispered as soon as Tifa was out of hearing range.

"The lights were off. It was your idea, anyway." The memory made Vincent glad that the evening was cool enough for a jacket to hide his reaction.

Rude, in a fit of impatience at his discomfort over his scars, had gotten a little sneaky, in his opinion. The man had turned off the lights and pulled him over to the patio doors, undressing him gently and sensually in the cloudy, overcast light and kissing him into brainless arousal. When he would try to cover up any part of his body Rude would stop him by licking and kissing whatever he had tried to cover, and saying "No. I like that."

By the time Vincent was naked, he was lying prone on the carpet and every inch of his body had been thoroughly kissed, licked, and sucked; he was a quivering mess of need. Rude had made love to him right there on the floor with such tender loving slowness that he had fought himself not to weep when he came.

"You're blushing."

"It's warm in here. The heat's on, I think. Oh look, there they are." Vincent downed the last of his wine and walked out, carefully buttoning his jacket and hoping like all hell he could wait until they got home.