He Doesn't Go Out

Inside joke to my loyals-- It's been said that they were damn near gay for each other so, I just went with it. Finally, a world where the two of them can be…together.

Chapter 3

Cid instantly grew uncomfortable as Vincent stood before him, undoing his pants. "Uh, hey, if the reason you didn't wanna stick around and talk to Devona is that you're gay, hey man, that's great but I ain't interested!"

Vincent narrowed his eyes, as he pushed down his black jeans a short way. "I'm not gay, Highwind, but I think it would be easier to show you this than to try to explain."

Not entirely convinced, the pilot crossed his arms over his chest, averting his eyes to the side as Vincent exposed himself. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, now, just…look." Vincent's voice was quiet and wavering, showing his profound embarrassment with the situation.

After scowling and huffing in his annoyment, Cid reluctantly brought his gaze up to what Vincent was trying to show him. At once his expression completely changed when he saw what had been done to his best friend at Hojo's hands. "Holy flyin' fuck, Vince! What'd he do to you?"

Supposing that the pilot had seen enough, Vincent shrugged weakly, before pulling his jeans back up. "I think it's fairly self explanatory, Highwind. He castrated me and left me with virtually…nothing else."

Cid shook his head and shuddered, before getting off the bed and meeting Vincent's gaze. "Jesus, I had no fuckin' idea, Sunshine…"

The gunman turned his back to the other man and hung his head. "Of course not, it's not something that I've made a general announcement about."

Now, Cid felt horrible and in some sort of gesture, he placed his hand on Vincent's shoulder and made him turn back around to face him. "Okay…well, I understand you not wantin' to get involved with a chick I guess in any sort of…you know, close way, but, well, uh, you can still have friends."

"The woman in question that we saw tonight wasn't looking at me as though she wanted to just be 'friends', Highwind. Can you imagine how terrible it would be to find myself in some sort of compromising position and to have this…discovered? I would be laughed at. I can't handle that, Cid, I honestly can't." Vincent's eyes were dimmed in his depression and loneliness.

"There's gotta be somethin' we can do for you." Cid felt the stirrings of thought deep within his mind, but found any ideas lacking.

"There is nothing you can do, I'm sure." Vincent lifted his mechanical left arm "I don't need any more artificial parts added to me at this point." The gunslinger produced a faint smile. "Now, let's get out of this room before Shera gets any notions about us."

Still feeling bad, Cid shoved his hands in his pockets and followed Vincent out into the family room before landing in his usual chair. He watched as Vincent went back over to the couch after picking up his book.

"So, that's it?"

Vincent dog earred his book and looked over at the blond. "That's what?"

Cid motioned toward Vincent. "This? You're just gonna live there on the couch readin' for the rest of your life? I appreciate that you've gotten a little fucked up, but you can't just do nothin' for all eternity."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow and considered the book in his hands. "I don't know, there are an awful lot of books out there that I've not read."

"You know, it just comes off as lame when you try and be funny, Sue." Cid picked up the remote control and started flipping through the channels on the television.

"Was I trying to be humorous?" Vincent said back quietly, his crimson eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, you're right, my mistake." Cid settled on some old rerun, and no more was said between the two of them for the remainder of the night.

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The morning found Vincent and Cid sitting at the kitchen table, downing their respective breakfasts. Suddenly, Cid turned in his chair and faced the kitchen door, having sensed something that no one else had. Within and instant, he bolted from his seat and toward the door, obviously intent on locking it before some intruder came through.

Shera, sitting with her infant son on her lap, couldn't help but ask. "Cid? What are you doing?"

He flipped the lock on the door and turned to face she and Vincent back at the table. "Heard the neighbors' door open and close. They have that damn habit of showin' up here on Saturday mornings."

Vincent and Shera nodded in unison, both understanding. While the neighbors were wonderfully nice to be around, the fact that they were two gay men didn't sit quite so well with the pilot. He always felt awkward when they came over, which was far too often in his opinion.

As it turned out, his attempt to keep them away by locking the back door failed miserably, as they came to the front door of the house for a change.

Cid threw his hands up in defeat when he heard the knock at the door. "Oh fuck me!"

Vincent, seeing that Shera had her hands full with the baby and that Cid was apparently now growing roots to the floor where he stood, decided to be the better man and went to answer. He strode from the kitchen and into the family room, opening the front door. "Good morning."

The slightly heavier of the two stepped through the door first. "Hey, Vincent! We were bored so we thought we'd come over and see what the bunch of you were up to. Cid and Shera home?"

Vincent nodded, letting the men pass him. "Yes, they are, Quig."

The men went over and landed on the couch together. The other one spoke, his green eyes shining. "I was hoping to maybe con Cid into helping me change the sparkplugs on my car this afternoon. Do you think he'd do that for me?"

Cid, having entered from the kitchen, went over to his chair and sat, answering for himself. "Damn it, Port, have you ever paid a mechanic in your life?"

Porter laughed while draping his arm around Quigley's shoulders. "Well that would defeat the purpose of living next door to you now, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, but what are the chances you're just doin' it so you can stare at my ass as I work under the hood?" Cid shot back, his attempt to seem angry failing him.

"Oh honestly!" Porter laughed. "You are entirely not my type."

"I though male was your type!" The pilot added, a smile coming to his lips despite his best effort.

Quigley scoffed, patting Porter's knee. "Trust me, old Port here would never dream of it, Cid."

"Yeah, I ain't puttin' any money down on that." Cid crossed his arms over his chest.

Vincent, deciding that it wasn't going to do him any good to remain by the door, went over and took up one of the other available chairs in the room. Shera entered not too much longer, bringing cups of coffee for their visitors, the baby toddling along behind her.

They all sat around talking, Cid interjecting insults as needed. Vincent just remained in his place, observing the interactions of those around him. For all of Cid's forced negativity, it was clear that down beneath it all, he did like Joseph Porter and Quigley Sharday. The two men had moved into the house next to theirs about nine months earlier and had gone out of their way to become friends of the Highwind household, despite Cid's initial reservations.

As Vincent continued to watch the others, he noticed something. He looked into the pilot's blue eyes across the room. Behind them, in the dusty recesses of Cid's mind, long dormant wheels were breaking loose and turning-- a dim light bulb slowly illuminating within his head as his gaze switched between his guests and the gunslinger. Cid was contemplating something, and Vincent only knew one thing:

It was going to be bad.