O My Lord Valentine
---Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy is not mine. I don't own any of the characters in this story unless otherwise noted.
Warnings in this Chapter: Looks like it's Reno/Vincent now , Cid/Vincent, I won't even mention the cursing now
Author Note: Uh-oh, I'm getting in the heart-wrenching shounen ai mood now...watch it...

Reno skulked through the vibrant blue dawn glowing through the hotel corridors, down the creaking steps and outside where his phone had a decent connection. To most, something would be wrong with going out in public in a white button-down shirt and plain boxers, but half-past four in the morning closed down all the rides, and thus no one bothered to see what lie beyond the daylight of the Gold Saucer. He held the phone to his ear as it rang once, twice. He rubbed his sleepy eyes as it rang a sixth time. Finally, Elena picked up:

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! IT'S FOUR IN THE MORNING---"

"It's Reno."

"Oh. Hi, Reno!"

"Hey." He yawned and spoke at the same time. "Vincent Valentine's going to help me win my favors back."

"Really? That's great! I'd really hate to lose you as a partner."

"Yeah. Partner." He yawned one more time, pondering what to say next.

"Er...Reno?"

"Hm?"

"You're not calling him Lord Valentine, are you?"

"Why yes I am."

"Oh goodness. Why don't you and Rude come on back. Your work's just piling up. Have some responsibility!"

"Can it. I want to do this. Just letting you know what I'm to." He cut the connection instantly, fell back on the steps and sighed. Since Tseng passed away he'd done more worrying over his job than ever before. Shinra hired more Turks, more competition, and less fun-loving could be done. Until at last, he couldn't take the pressure, and here he was...sleeping with the enemy. Or trying to, for the hell of it. An intriguing waste of his time.

"Responsibility...for losers like you, Elena."

Vincent woke up early, sweating bullets. He didn't shoot out of bed screaming, and didn't have a nightmare. There was something, though, that simply...unnerved him. Something about that day, about Cid, about...

...Reno?

It wasn't a dream. He knew that. He couldn't forget it, and wouldn't.

His silky hair slipped from the soft carriage of the pillow, falling down his back and slender pallor shoulders. Now two men were serving him as they would a king. Oh, what did the others think of him. What would Lucrecia think.

"Ascendant of the Turks." Flattering, but no. It made no sense.

Vincent got up and slipped on his slick black pants, threw on his double-breasted black jacket, not caring to button it up. He pulled on his boots and considered himself acceptable to be walking around in the hall, his headband and cloak still draped across the chair in the far corner. His hand of flesh poised on the doorknob, he gently turned it...

And then there was Reno, ambling slowly back to his room. He looked back at Vincent, not saying a word. It seemed he was happy with just walking away.

"Reno," called Vincent, before he could stop himself.

Reno turned back toward him instantly. "Yes?"

The wind outside was picking up--Vin could hear it through his window. "How...How are you today?"

"I'm, um...I'm fine." My career is in ruins. "And you?"

"I'm fairly well." I'm never well. "We return to Wutai today."

"Before you teach me the historic ways of the Turks?"

"Well I don't know yet," he said quickly. "Would you know the time?"

Would you know it? Who talks like that nowadays? "Yeah, 'bout a quarter to five."

"Ah."

They stood in silence out in the hall for a long, awkward moment. Vincent toyed with his hair. Reno tapped his foot. Vincent whistled that stupid song he'd heard from Tifa before. Then Reno lunged forward, poking Vincent in the chest with his finger. "Hey, we're not doin' anything. You can teach me something now--"

Then Cid came loping down the hall, growling. He stopped short of Vincent with his hair a hot mess and Reno in his boxers with a digit on Vincent's bare chest. His unimpressed growl gurgled louder in his throat.

Vincent tried to explain that this was simply mere coincidence, but Cid dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Shut it, Vinny. I don't even wanna know."

"But Cid, I--"

"C'mere." Vincent found his neck hooked under Cid's obviously unclean armpit. He didn't protest, only squeaked some odd rendition of "OK." "Now Vinny," Cid started, waving his correcting finger. "What have I told you about sneakin' around at night with little boys?"

"But Reno has to be over twenty--"

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU?!"

"Nothing!" he whimpered.

Reno raised his fist. "How DARE you yell at Lord Valentine! You're the shit in my toilet!"

"Well you're the ash'a my cig!"

Vincent saw sparks fly in a bad way, especially from his position under Cid's arm. Their teeth clenched in a heated battle of growls and snarls you'd think would come from Red. Reno looked more like a yapping mutt puppy, barking up the wrong tree, which happened to be almost a clear foot over his wild red hair.

Then Cloud tapped Cid's shoulder, yawning. His pants were hardly buttoned, his hair looking even more like a chocobo than usual. "Er...there's no toilet paper in my room. Can I use the john?"

"Oh. Um..."

Vincent yanked himself from under Cid, gently gesticulating toward the door. "Of course you can, Cloud."

"Thanks." He padded into Vincent's room in his fluffy Mog slippers...or maybe they were Tifa's..."Sorry guys. Pretend I'm not here. Keep fighting."

Reno's hands held the back of his head. He sighed halfheartedly as the bathroom door shut. Cid groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I don't even...I don't even feel like it no more..."

"Me neither, man. Let's call it a morning. Lord Vinny and I have a class to tend to--"

"What'd you just say? Did you call him VINNY?"

"Yeah? You do it all the time."

"You bastard! C'mere and let me hit you!!"

Outside of Vincent's room the two grown men appeared to be playing Ring Around the Rosy in a less than agreeable fashion, spewing vulgarity and guaranteeing a sure-fire wake-up call for the entire floor. Vincent waited at his bathroom door for Cloud to appear, looking rather victorious. Cloud watched Vincent's tired face sink into a frown. "Cloud. Unless you find it funny for a man of my age and condition to cry, you will help this poor, poor soul."

AN: I seem to be stuck on this "scene-by-scene" ultra-short chapter kinda thing. I wanna see how many I can dish out in a week. Bear with me, 'kay? I'll have another one cranked out by closin' time. And PLEASE read and review, because I get so depressed when it looks like no one's reading...please?