Cid slept deeply for several hours. When he woke, he found that he could not distinguish whether he had dreamed or lain awake all night; if he had indeed dreamed, they were dreams of lying with Vincent this way. It was dark when he woke, and the darkness momentarily confused him before he remembered how early he had gone to sleep. Vincent was again draped over him, and Cid was aroused and quickly growing more so. "Shit, Vincent, you gotta stop doin' this if y'want me t'behave." It was not uncommon for him to wake up this way, but tonight he had company, which rendered it wholly unacceptable.
His companion's thigh pressed and shifting between his legs was certainly not helping. He stared at the other man's sleeping face for a while, taking note of how the lips formed a pout when Cid jostled him slightly, trying to move away. Giving up moving, he instead leaned in and kissed those lips. When Vincent's eyes fluttered open, fixing Cid with a look he didn't know how to interpret, Cid groaned, "You ain't nothin' but trouble, y'know that?" as he worked his arm out from beneath Vincent to begin stroking his hair in an attempt to coax him back into sleep. "Go t'sleep, Vincent, it's all right," he whispered.
Vincent had slept long, deeply and dreamlessly. He roused slowly, even after he felt lips upon his own. He had long forgotten how it had felt to wake up in such a state, warm and comfortable, next to a body, and being touched gently. "Cid?" he asked groggily, struggling to sit up, but only succeeding in slumping a little more against the body under him. He rubbed his eyes and squinted out the window. It was dark; just how long had they slept, anyway? "What time is it?"
"Not quite midnight," Cid answered quietly, enraptured by Vincent being content to stay with him. "I didn't mean t'wake ya up, y'c'n go on back t'sleep." Cid stopped petting Vincent's hair to let both his arms lie limply at his sides, trying to show that Vincent could make his own decisions and Cid would deny him nothing. "If y're hungry, I c'n call somethin' in. There's a couple places still open." Say you ain't, an' stay here. I don't wanna move…
"Hn," Vincent grunted and settled back down to rest his cheek against Cid's shoulder. He tucked his hands up under his armpits and sighed quietly. "Not terribly, no." There was a moment of easy silence between them that was rudely interrupted by a loud rumbling growl. "Well, maybe a little," Vincent said sheepishly, and snuggled in closer to the warm body beside to him, his own reluctance to move surprising him, but not unpleasantly so.
Thoroughly enjoying the contact, Cid said timidly, "Maybe we c'n wait a little while? Feels so good just like this," he sighed. He moved his head to tuck Vincent's head under his chin, turning slightly to feel him more completely and draping an arm over him. Apparently he would deny him something after all. "'R maybe I c'd get 'em t'airlift it in an' come in through th'winda. Whatcha think?"
Vincent gave a muffled snort. "An' how wud we ge' th' airship unner th p'ate?" He said from where his face was pressed against the cop's clothed chest. He pulled his had back and took a deep, cool breath of air. He wriggled back and tilted his head to frown up at Highwind. "You smell, and I am covered with dried blood." He said bluntly before tucking his head back under Cid's chin. "And I have nothing but my suit to wear." He groaned. "Which is ruined, it is so wrinkled," he fussed inanely, but still made no move to get up.
"Mph…I dunno. Mebbe they c'd lift it with one o' them big cranes'r somethin'." He wiggled to accommodate Vincent's return to their cuddling position. "What, y'wanna take a shower, then? I c'n find somethin' for ya t'wear, an' I'll make up th'suit some kinda way. Mind you, anything 'round here'll be a little big on ya." Cid grinned as he pictured Vincent in one of his already oversized shirts. "We prob'ly oughta take care o' this, huh?" he sighed, being no more inclined to move than Vincent was.
"I do not wish to impose, but I am afraid that this will not do." Vincent sighed gustily, plucking at his shirt. He finally pulled back, albeit reluctantly. "But it does not mean that we cannot return to what we were doing." He lifted himself up to sit cross-legged on the bed and peered at Cid's bandaged shoulder. "Tseng does impressive work." He mused thoughtfully. Finally he slumped, and came out and asked. "May I use your shower and borrow a change of clothes? And I apologize for not asking earlier this morning, but I hurt, and had not slept well…and Marlene had kneed me in the testicles. That child has quite a leg on her." He blurted with a grimace.
Cid laughed out loud after wincing in sympathy for Vincent at the end of the story. "Well, she'll be able t'take care of 'erself, if nothin' else." He looked fondly at his companion, raising himself to sit up as well, and answering, "You don't hafta ask fer anything here. If it's mine, it's yours. I appreciate it, though," he said, and it was true; he was oddly flattered by Vincent's politeness, as few people bothered to respect Cid or what was his unless a sarcastic point was being made. "You go 'head an' shower, an' I'll getcha somethin' t'wear an' call in food. What're ya up for?" he asked, not wanting to order something only to watch Vincent politely choke it down as he did food Cid cooked himself. "An' he does do good work, don't 'e? Thank 'im for me if y'see 'im 'fore I do."
"Thank you," Vincent said sincerely then made to slide off the bed, but hesitated, looking intently at Cid. He then leaned forward and captured Cid's lips with his own, sliding one hand behind the cop's neck to pull the man's lips more firmly against his own. He slid his tongue against the seam of Cid's mouth, which opened eagerly, and he probed deeply, sliding his tongue against Highwind's and shivering as he felt that strange tingle begin in his belly. Finally he pulled back far enough to rest his forehead against Cid's and said more earnestly, "Thank you." Then turned away, got off the bed and drifted into the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind him.
Cid had no idea what he'd done, but he would do it again in a heartbeat if this was the reaction. Speaking of heartbeats, Cid's had quickened as soon as Vincent's lips had touched him. Smiling as he shook off the reaction, Cid stood and gathered clothes enough for both of them; he would shower after ordering the food. Pizza, though it was a repeat, sounded fine to him and was generally easily agreed upon. He ordered it the way he would have had he not had to share with children; light sauce, white cheeses only, and loaded with peppers – but only the mild ones, in case Vincent didn't like spice very much. When the call was done, Cid placed a set of clothes on each arm and knocked on the bathroom door. "Gotcher clothes. Promise I won't peek," he called over the running water.
Vincent made a noise of acknowledgment through the spray of water, grinning as he lathered up. His hands has healed enough that the abrasions were only irritated red marks and he felt rested, though still a bit tired. His mind was far from 'business' and he wanted to keep it that way. Finishing up quickly, he got out and toweled off. Picking up what looked like a soft pair of cotton pajama pants in a pleasing shade of blue, he grinned again as he slid them on. They were, as Cid had so astutely pointed out, too large for him and so rode low on his hips, countering the fact that they were a bit too short in the leg, but otherwise were surprisingly comfortable. The button down top followed suit, which was too short in the arms, but still managed to hang off of him. Upon exiting the bathroom, he dumped his street clothes on top of his duffel, then rummaged around in a pocket until he found a leather tie. He then sat on the edge of the bed, and loosely braided his hair to keep it out of his face, then opened the bedroom door and made his way out into the living room.
Cid grinned as Vincent reentered the living room. "Looks good on ya," he snorted, watching as the pants threatened to fall off him. "Shoulda gave ya somethin' with belt loops, I reckon." He stood, intending to use the shower now that Vincent was done, but a thought hit him: it would be foolish for him to allow Vincent to answer the door here. "Guess y're gonna hafta smell how much I stink a little while longer," Cid said, toying with Vincent's braid as he walked back around the couch. "C'n I getcha somethin' t'drink while we wait?"
Vincent rolled his eyes and grinned. "I shall manage. What do you have?"
"Um. Lemme get back to ya on that," Cid said, and entered the kitchen. "We got milk, cold tea, hot tea, water, an' pink lemonade, 'cause that's all Marlene'll drink an' Elena fergot t'take it back with 'er. No wine this time, s'much as I hate t'say it." He was quite sorry for it, actually; their nights together always went better on average when there was alcohol involved.
Vincent pursed his lips a moment in thought then got up off of the couch and walked into the kitchen, tugging up on the waistband of his sleep pants as he went. "I think hot tea would be pleasing…and relaxing, though I do not think I could get any more relaxed than I am at the moment. But I shall make it; you need not trouble yourself, go and sit down. Shall I make some for you as well?"
"Hey, y're a guest here. Sit yer ass down," Cid teased, pushing playfully at Vincent's shoulder, "or d'ya not trust me t'make a decent cup o' tea?"
Blinking, a little startled, Vincent did as Cid told him and plopped his ass down at the kitchen table. "It is not that. But you have already been more than generous already, it would be…rude of me to demand you wait on me as well." Manners had always been first and foremost in his mind, and he had been raised to consider it an honor to serve a guest in one's home. But since moving to Midgar, he had learned that things were a little…different in this city. So chastised he blurted, quite honestly, "I am sorry if I insulted you, Cid."
Turning his back on the heating water, Cid sighed and said, "Fer one thing, it ain't demandin' if I offer. Fer another, ain't it my job as a host t'make sure y're taken care of?" He smiled carefully, trying to show Vincent he wasn't offended without saying as much. "Guess maybe I'm just a little old-fashioned. I like bein' able t'take care o' ya, Vincent. An' I'm sorry if I made y'feel like I was offended. Mebbe pushed a little too hard there…didn't hurt ya, did I?"
"No," Vincent said thoughtfully. "I just did not think that I would come across someone with such similar values as I." He raised his leg to prop his foot on the seat of the chair and rest his chin on his knee, and wrapped his arms around his leg. He cocked his head at Cid, grin returning as he realized that what he was doing was considered in many circles as being rude, but didn't care.
The two of them sitting there in companionable conversation, Vincent at ease in a chair and Cid on the counter, felt like home for Cid, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He wanted it to be like this forever, easy silence and easy talk, warm, heavy atmosphere surrounding them…Cid wondered what he had done right to deserve even a moment of this. He didn't dare break it with another confession of love, only looked back at Vincent, smiling. Just as the water started to boil, the doorbell rang, and Cid laughed. "Guess y'get t'make yer own anyway," he said as he left the kitchen to pay for the pizza.
Chuckling, Vincent stood up and walked over to the stove to finish making the tea, unconsciously tugging at the waistband of his pants again as he did so. By the time Cid returned with what looked to be pizza, but smelled quite a bit better than what they had last night with the children, he had two cups of hot tea steeped and waiting for them. "Pizza again?" he teased with a grin.
"Well, I didn't wanna hafta stand there takin' yer order from th'other side o' th'bathroom door, did I? Woulda screwed it up. Pizza's safe. Hope y'don't mind there's no pepperoni; that shit's gotta be th'worst invention on th'planet, 'cept fer maybe turnstiles." He set the box on the table, offered Vincent the first choice of cups of tea, took the other, and sat in the seat beside the one Vincent had occupied earlier. "Dammit, I'm gonna getcha fat, lettin' ya eat this late," he laughed, turning the open box toward Vincent.
Vincent snorted, and perused the already sliced pizza, looking for a slice that struck his fancy. Finding one thick with cheese and generous with peppers he removed it and took a bite before answering carefully around a mouthful, feeling delightfully childish and immature. "Perish the thought of one night of disastrously late food consumption and its results. And here I thought the beer gut I was working on would be the death of my physical appeal."
"Beer an' pizza's 'bout th'best way t'do yerself in, yeah," Cid said cheerily, toasting Vincent with his slice of pizza. "But I'll be damned if it ain't a hell of a way t'go." He winked, chewing the bite he took carefully before asking, "So didja see how yer Tseng was lookin' at Aerith t'day?"
Vincent blinked, startled. "No, I had not noticed. How did he look at her?" He couldn't hide the curiosity in his voice, and did not even try.
Grinning, Cid said, "Well, I guess you were kinda busy whenever all of us were t'gether. We'll hafta go out fer drinks'r somethin' sometime so y'c'n get a better look. I think 'e likes 'er," he said vaguely. "An' if I know her, she likes him too but won't let 'erself get close."
Chewing thoughtfully, he swallowed then sucked some cheese and sauce off of his thumb slowly as he considered the match. "Then they stand about as much chance of getting together as…" you and I, he finished in his head, watching Cid again as the cop took a large bite of pizza. And yet, here they were. Vincent smiled gently and said, "Ms. Gainsborough is a lovely young woman. She would be a fine match for Tseng. Why do you say that about her, Cid?"
"She's got 'er own past, like I reckon' he does. I know she looks th'picture o' innocence, but that's hardly true. An' her bein' her, she won't be able t'be comf'table bein' with 'im 'less'n she tells 'im ever'thin', even if he never asks. An' then she'll be afraid he'll reject 'er after hearin' she ain't who 'e thought, even though he's hardly a saint 'imself - well. An' you an' me know perfectly well he wouldn't do that to 'er, an' I reckon she does too, only she won't let 'erself think it, lest she end up bein' happy or somethin' awful like that," Cid explained, then grinned.
"She's a little bit like-" like you, really "-well. I'mma go take that shower; freshen up for ya, an' then I'll be right back. Thanks fer the tea," he added as an afterthought, grinning. He stood, polishing off his second piece of pizza. "I can't take feelin' all gross no more," he laughed, and retreated into the bathroom. While showering, Cid couldn't help but smile as he thought of Vincent and everything being as it should be. This was what he wanted, the easy peace between them now. He hoped it would still be present when he returned to the kitchen. As the sweat and the rest of the blood washed away, Cid closed his eyes as a shudder and an inappropriate thought of Vincent joining him in the shower rushed over him.
Calm yerself down, Highwind, y'old fool, he scolded himself, scrubbing all over once more, quickly but thoroughly, before stepping out from beneath the spray and cutting off the water. When the time came to dress, Cid decided he didn't much feel like wearing a shirt. Vincent wouldn't mind. In fact, Cid figured as he looked into the mirror, he might even be entitled to charge him for the view. He smoothed his hair back, not bothering to comb it since they were just going back to bed, and moved to put on his pants, only to find that they were nowhere to be seen. Sighing and wrapping one of the big towels around his waist, he stuck his head out the door and looked for Vincent, finding him to be still sitting in the kitchen. He entered, asking, "Say, Vincent, you wouldn't happen t'know where I put those clothes I got fer m'self, wouldja?"
Eyeing Cid in amusement, one brow rose as Vincent said, "No, I was in the shower." He chuckled at Highwind's frustrated expression, and went back to the slice of pizza he had been working on before Cid had decided to show off his ability to wear a bath towel. As Cid huffed and wandered off to continue his search, Vincent's thoughts returned to Tseng and Aerith. It would be good if Tseng could find someone…find someone and have a life, a family, instead of following him around all the time. He hated the fact that Tseng's life all but revolved around him and his schedule. It wasn't fair. It would appear that that we all are not who we seem to be, he thought sadly, plucking a pepper off of his pizza and nibbling on it meditatively. He would have to see what he could do to…encourage Tseng to spend more time with the enchanting Ms. Gainsborough. He grinned to himself as his brain began to idly plot a little.