A/N: VERY HEAVY Yaoi here! Lemon, everything..the works! Not too much, though... They get a little more private time together... and yes, I will get back to the story after this chapter. Theatre's cliffhanger kept bothering me, so I wrote this to keep you readers interested... I know, I know you hate me because I pulled the Lemon Card...I'm sorry! Hee.. (PS, Flame me and you'll recieve no such thanks from me, you narrow-sighted meanies!!)

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Vincent stood nearby next to me, bartering with the Midgar gate guard. The guard didn't rightly know we were wanted men, but caution was always best. Right at this moment, my saviour was trying to allow us passage to the road to Kalm, a village far beyond Midgar's clutches by the sea.

I was freezing my wee balls off when finally the guard sucked in his gut. "God damn it," he said in a resigned fashion. "Fine! Just get out of my sight. I don't care what you're in for, just get the hell away from me before I get scalded by the president."

Vincent nodded, unsmiling and unfriendly but spoke in a confidential tone. "You won't be discredited on my account, soldier. I understand what a terribly boring job this must be... I apologize."

"Geez... for a Turk, you sure are damned polite."

Vincent motioned to me. Obediently, I followed and uttered gratefully my thanks also to the soldier who had given Vincent such a rotten time.

As we walked out, the city towers growing more visible as we ventured from the plate, I asked Vincent, "Why didn't you just shoot the man?"

Vincent never lost a beat, speaking in a decidedly harsh tone. "Because I have enough blood on my hands. Because ShinRa would have eventually heard about it and sniffed our trail sooner, and because he was only doing his job."

Ouch. Stupid question extraordinaire, yep, that's me. I issued a shaky breath and trotted to catch up with him, glad to have the sun spill full upon us now that we were free of the shadow of Midgar. "Wait a minute," I called loudly. "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Then why are you so... bitchy?"

"It's nothing."

Then why did I still have the feeling that he was ignoring me? Or avoiding me? I grew frantic... it was such a shame that after being a prostitute for such a long time, being shunned and scorned like a dog who overstayed his visit still hurt me. Especially the particular way Vincent did, although he might have just been trying to formulate new plans of avoiding Shinra.

The land around us was eerily silent, so I didn't say anything. I felt the weight of the gun in the waistband of my jeans and brooded quietly the reason for Vincent's discontent. And not minutes after we'd first stepped into the sun and walked, a vicious fur-covered mammal threw itself at me from a ledge from my right shoulder. I was too slow, pivoting on my foot and reaching for my gun at the split second when the full force of the beast hit me.

I crashed down onto the ground, smothered by the savage beast. The musk of its fur was sickening, smelling like old furniture and older blood. I couldn't angle the muzzle of the gun into its stomach, or keep its muzzle away from my throat and dimly I heard the ring of gunshots. A spray of hot liquid spilled onto my shirt and the animal squealed in dismay, staggering to one side.

As it made room to recover itself from the holes expelling pints of fresh blood, Vincent fired a third shot to its head and it fell dead to the ground.

I rubbed my cheek, grimacing at the feeling of blood. Then another beast waited, standing and watching its fallen comrade with a mixture of animal shock and feral hunger. For dead meant meat, always in the world of the wild.

Without hesitating I raised my gun and fired at it. The bullets pelted into the lip of the cliff beneath its feet, sending the beast skittering backwards franticly at the peculiar event, before fixing its eyes on me. It launched itself then, teeth open, long tail streaming behind it like a banner.

It looked like a mixture between a huge sewer rat and a wild dog. Its gums and tongue were spotted black, contrasting sharply with sharp pearly white teeth. It was a ruddy brown color with patches of fur missing, and a number of scars from fighting with its pack mates. I watched it in dull amazement as it fell toward me, until my trigger finger found the feeling in it again and I fired, watching blood mist from every shot. The animal was dead seconds before it hit the ground.

Vincent stepped up behind me, disturbing a few pebbles. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his shoe and I was tempted to reach out and grab onto it, as though it would lend me the burst of strength I needed to get up. Instead I took a deep breath, and staggered back to my feet.

"Are you alright?" Vincent asked softly, resting a hand on my back to steady me. The concern gave me more comfort than I had hoped.

"I think so. I haven't lost any digits or anything, have I?" I raised my hands for him to check, and for a second he smiled. It felt good to see him smile. Even better, I was waiting for him to embrace me.

But he didn't.

* * * * *

Kalm village. It was a slice of nervous heaven by the ocean. The pub was buzzing with rumors about something happening in ShinRa...but it didn't bother me in the least. All I cared about was getting to that inn and perhaps getting some shuteye. With Vincent, if possible.

With more ammunition and curative tinctures to bring along the way, we retired to the inn with barely enough to sleep at the inn with. I slid my hands over the front of my shirt after taking off my jacket and enjoyed the warmth as it rolled itself underneath my clothes and clung there, making me at once drowsy and rather horny.

Vincent stood behind me. I should have known better, but I had no complaints when he tucked his body against my back and pressed his hands to my stomach. I gasped a little, and shivered while his lips toyed with the tender nerves along my neck.

He breathed out. The breeze weakened me at once. Before I could sink to the floor his arms tightened and brought me resting against his lean thigh so I wouldn't be sliding to my arse on the rug.

After a few moments he started to sit down, bringing me with him until we both were seated on the oriental rug in front of the fireplace. Chest to shoulderblade, I could feel him breathing and right now it wasn't as calm and as collected as his actions were.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked me with concern, for I was now nestled against his stomach and chest, between his sprawled out legs. His arms hung loosely around my waist, while his left thumb continuously rubbed my hip through my jean.

I wished it would stop. I wanted to scream and turn myself around, attack his mouth. It wasn't as cold... the heat penetrated my skin and drove my desire bloody crazy. "I'm fine."

I could almost hear Vincent smile. We sat together on the rug for a longer time, my head eventually dropping back against his shoulder. Then his hands rubbed along my sides, making my hips buck slightly. The moan that came out of me sounded like a whore's moan and I felt at once ashamed of it.

"You need to relax," Vincent told me. "Turn over."

"What?"

He pushed me gently. I had no choice but to obey, turning over onto my stomach, and wherever my back went, his stomach followed and he sat on me, his hands shoving my shirt up and fingers, calloused by gunslinging and time, kneading against the most exquisitely tense muscles on my shoulders as they brushed over them like Orpheus playing his harp.

I wanted him to do me. It was stronger than making out with him in the truck, a stronger desire than talking to him in his living room, or watching him read a book.

My eyes stung. The desperation and need grew so strong, I cried because it felt impossible that Vincent would get to it. As a result, I couldn't quite relax, even when he asked me to relax a bit.

"It hurts!" I blurted out, when he leaned close to try and see my face. "Vincent, please, you just--"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Vincent hissed. He slid off, pulling me onto my back where he kissed my face. His hand pushed against my stomach, to my groin and I bucked weakly to it. He bent his face to mine and his tongue touched the corner of my tight-lipped mouth.

"Kiss me," he commanded breathlessly, kissing my cheek and mouth again until I relented. I suckled his tongue greedily, because he tasted like sugar and everything I loved about tasting him.

I pulled free, gasping as he watched my face with a calm, curious expression. I felt his hand, slowly pulling my jeans away and gently brushing my throbbing flesh. I'd waited for it so long, almost too long to have him openly touch me.

I cursed in a shaky voice, appreciative noises squeaking past my throat. I moved my leg aside for his benefit as well as mine, alarmed by the sudden kiss that attacked my shoulder. He listened to me, senses tuned to everything I did and every sound I made while he bit and suckled my baby-soft flesh in between his teeth. And throughout, he was calm and collected, as though he'd been trained for love-making, too.

I squirmed slightly, opening my eyes and breathing his name, and tears burning again. I swore I wouldn't be able to hold it any longer the way he watched me, rocking against me while his palm groped.

"Vincent--" I began as a terrible thought hit me. What about him!? I felt selfish, but he put a free hand against my mouth and shook his head. The action itself, coupled with the sudden increase of pressure, the subtle rake of his finger across the ultimate point drove me writhing and struggling, trying to thrust and prolong but he pinned me, restricting much of my actions and forcing me to cry out viciously into his hand.

Fire coiled itself like a snake in my gut, and then spread like fireworks, burning and setting everything to a restless fury. I sagged against the floor, panting and shivering like a spent runner.

"Luciel," Vincent murmured as he released me slowly, kissing me softly.

"I love you," I whispered, wiping my eyes clean of tears. "I love you, Vincent!"

He made a sound I wasn't sure to make of, a thoughtful, indecisive sound as he hugged me, pressing his face to my shoulder. Our hug was tight and yet somehow precarious, and... that, plus the fact he didn't return my vocally professed feelings, I was afraid.