Title: FB – All Man

Author: Enide Dear

Pairing: Valenwind, Renaj, Lozoo

Rating: may cause nightmares

Summary: Cid is all man, damn it!

Swearing loud enough to drown out the shower pounding down on him, Cid squeezed his shampoo bottle harder, but again nothing came out of it except air and a slightly rude sound.

"Just my damn luck," he sighed, tossing the bottle aside, grimacing to himself. He should have added it to the grocery list days ago, but it had just slipped his mind, replaced by the need for cat food and a new screwdriver. "Gods- damn Turk!" Growling, he turned off the shower and padded naked and dripping and shivering in the colder air over to the bathroom cabinet that held the Valenwind's hygiene articles,

There sure were a lot of them. In slight despair Cid stared at the cabinet, crammed full to the limits with bottles and jars, one looking weirder than the other.

"Fucking Reno," he muttered under his breath again - the Turk really had nothing to do with this particular dilemma, but cursing him always made Cid feel a little better. "Ya'd think," he said with some exasperation to a kitten that watched him curiously from behind a shredded roll of toilet paper, "that people who'd been subject ta Hojo would be wary of bright coloured liquids in tubes."

Going through the contents in a logical order, sorting out the shampoo from the shower gels, soaps, body scrubs, peeling masks, conditioners and Gods knew what else, Cid finally managed to sort out a manageable number of bottles.

Three of them turned out to be anti-flea powder for kittens. Scowling, he put them aside, making a mental note of having a talk to Loz. The cats were getting decisively spoiled rotten.

The next one was Vincent's, a damn expensive concoction specially made to help turning undead, knotty tresses into Vincent's long, smooth flowing expanse of hair. Feeling deliciously naughty, Cid inhaled deeply the scent of his lover, suddenly not so cold anymore. Much as he liked the scent, though, the shampoo was too expensive to be used on his short, blonde and usually very tame-able hair, especially since the mirror showed that he would need a lot of it. Wasn't his fault really. There had been a cat toy jammed in the circulator.

The next bottle made him sneeze several times – and startle the kitten to make a dive for safety behind the wash basin- before he could even read the label. Roses. Well, there was no question as to whom that belonged and Yazoo could keep it as far as Cid was concerned. Then there was another bottle with a spicy smell of vanilla – it was Loz's, of course. The two scents mingled in the small room, bringing back eerie reminders of his time with ShinRa and a certain general. Cid shook them off, not wanting to go there even in his mind.

He opened the last bottle with some trepidation.

Kadaj's shampoo smelled like a damn candy shop, heavy with cacao and brown sugar. Swearing, Cid closed it again and stared in despair at the bottles, like a man forced to play roulette with a gun fully loaded with bullets.

Slowly, half against his will, his eyes kept being drawn to one bottle.

Vincent was engrossed in his book, only noticing that Cid came down from the shower to make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen, but too occupied to reflect over the shocked silence that this simple, everyday action suddenly caused in the rowdy kitchen. The gunman barely looked up when his husband stepped into the room and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Hello, chief," Vincent mumbled glancing up. "Did you…." He dropped his jaw and almost his book. From the corner of his eye, he could see three astonished silver haired boys hanging out from the kitchen, staring in avid fascination at their foster-father.

"Before ya ask," Cid crossed his arms defensively, "my bathrobe's in the laundry. That's why I'm wearing yers. And ya was the one who wanted it dyed pink so Capey wouldn't eat it."

"That's not…" Vincent started, but was interrupted.

"And this was the only towel I could find. I think Yazoo is hiding the others, somewhere. Ain't my fault there's roses on it!" Cid huffed, eyes dangerously narrow.

"I wouldn't dream of commenting on it." Vincent mumbled. "But why…"

"The slippers? Loz can get 'em back once he teaches those damn kittens not ta pee in mine. I think he got these from Reeve." Cid wriggled his toes in the patterned fluffiness. "There's another man with an obsession for cats."

"Yes. But…"

"Was the only clean cup." Cid said defensively, sipping from a 'World's Pretties Ass' cup. "Still better than the other one that damn Turk gave ta Kadaj. Remember? Said 'Best Fuck on Gaia', fer cryin' out loud!"

"I recall you breaking it on Reno's head." Vincent mumbled, still staring at his husband. "But Cid…"

"Yeah?"

Vincent hesitated. Cid stared. The Sephlings held their breaths.

"….why do you smell like flea powder?" He finally managed.

"Because," Cid squared his shoulders and set his jaw, blue eyes bright with defiance. "Cid Highwind is a man. I'm gay, but I ain't no fruitcake, ya hear me? And a real man doesn't use shampoo that smells like fucking flowers and candy!"

Vincent looked carefully at his husband, from the strong, muscular calves appearing from kitten patterned fluffiness, up to the pink hem of the robe embroidered with a pattern of bats (it had been a gift from Auntie Gracie) hanging low on the short pilot but straining over his shoulders where the hideous snake tattoo was visible under embroidered, rolled up sleeves, the big hands holding a cig and a crude tea cup, and the flowery towel over his shoulder and said, choosing his words with extreme care:

"I don't think, chief, that anyone could ever mistake you for anything but a man."

"Damn right," Cid made a small salute to him and then scowled at the Sephlings who had fallen over one another in a helpless giggle fit. "Now, if ya excuse me, I'll go sit on the porch and drink my Gods-damned tea." He sauntered out, leaving Vincent in a state of mild shock and the Sephlings in a pile of giggles. A few seconds later, demon hearing revealed Reno stepping up on the porch.

"Yo, Highwind…holy fucking Hell!"

"Fuck you, Turk!"

The door burst open and the red-head came bolting in, white-faced with shock.

"Valentine, tell your Gods-damned queen of a husband to stop wearing drag in public!" He said, wild-eyed. "I think I've been traumatized for life!"