Sorry, I updated a bit behind Cal. Had a busy weekend, for once.

His entire existence had taken the form of Cid Highwind at that moment. The rest of the world ceased to exist. Vincent's lips tingled and throbbed from the voracious kissing, and his breathing had indeed deepened. Instead of desperate gasps, they had turned into ragged pants that came from deep within his chest. He could feel tiny trickles of blood tickling down his back, which helped to clear the fog of lust that had risen up, threatening to turn him into a hormone-driven savage. Sephiroth's warning blazed in the back of his mind, and he struggled against it even as he leant into yet another kiss – briefer than the last, but no less passionate.

Sephiroth had said that Cid's knowledge of him was unimportant, so perhaps he should tell Cid of the nightmare, the demon that haunted his dreams. If Cid knew, then he could prepare himself for the other's attack. But no, Highwind wouldn't believe him; hells, half the time he didn't even believe himself! And Vincent clung to the slim hope that by not telling the cop his darkest secret, he was somehow keeping the man safe.

So what of Tseng's admonition? What really bothered him about getting close to Highwind? He had thought long and hard about that, and had finally decided that it was a little bit of everything. Yes, it bothered him a little that Cid was a man; a proud man whose pride dictated that he control his mate. And the fact that Vincent felt that he was put into the role of the submissive, helpless female needing comfort but never being allowed to comfort in return, only succeeded in making him resist. The only other interactions he had had with men, had resulted in forcing his submission and utter humiliation. A cop? This fact posed a problem only in the sense that when it came to business, it placed a great risk upon everything he did. And then there was Lucrecia, sweet Lucrecia. Yes, he felt like he was dishonoring her, but more was the fact that with Cid he could never have another child. It was selfish, but so often one never got a chance to choose what they felt. He was used to a woman's touch, a woman's love; and here was this man, this rough, crude man claiming that he loved him.

But none of that occurred to Vincent now. Now there was only this other warm body, and comforting presence. He kissed Cid again, and then returned to resting his forehead against the cop's once again. He touched his fingers to Cid's kiss-swollen lips and whispered, "I can't ever go back, can I."

Cid didn't know what Vincent was referring to, but the question garnered the same answer in virtually any context. Cid only shook his head, uncertain now of what would happen. He breathed shakily, unwarranted fear snatching at him from somewhere, but not managing to catch him. He let Vincent's fingers trace his lips, but they moved away when he spoke. "Can't go back…but what's ahead might be even better. We never know. Never ever know." Saddened by Vincent's obvious hesitance though he did not know what inspired it or to what it applied. "Take what you want. From me, from anybody, from life itself. That's my wish for ya, Vincent."

I'll give you anything in my power. An' hell, that ain't much, but…I'd give you everything. Y'd never believe me, but I would. He kissed Vincent again, moving his hands to rest on Vincent's hips. He slowly slid a few inches of his arms around Vincent low on his back, below the majority of the damage. The position put him in an odd slouching stance, his head resting on Vincent's shoulder near his neck. You deserve t'have whatever you need. "Always be yours," he offered quietly, pressing tighter and nuzzling into Vincent's neck.

His response was to wrap his arms around Cid, careful not to hold too tightly. Gently Vincent pulled Cid upward and against his own broken body, as one of his hands came up to rest on the nape of Cid's neck. He nuzzled Cid's ear and whispered raggedly, "That is what frightens me, Cid. You say that so easily, even after what you have seen me do, what I am capable of." What I keep putting you through. He pressed closer, knowing the pressure on those wicked bruises had to be painful, but needing the closeness. "How did you come to mean so much to me? A little over a month ago I would not have hesitated to take your life, and now the thought of your death puts the fear of the same in me." He kissed the side of Cid's head, rubbing Highwind's neck soothingly. "And every time I come here, I am made so sad, and yet when I leave, I am somehow stronger. I don't understand…perhaps I am not meant to."

Cid could barely manage not to squeeze Vincent. He did not know how to answer any of Vincent's speculations, so he only went on resting where Vincent had placed him. "I don't wanna make ya sad," he said, pressing his face more tightly against Vincent's neck. He felt the pain only distantly. He could feel the blood on his arms, and he shivered at the unpleasant feel of it in contrast with the wonderful feeling of Vincent tenderly kissing and caressing him. He wanted to fall apart here, to rest in Vincent's arms forever, or at least as long as they would hold him. He kissed the skin under his mouth and spread his hands where they rested on Vincent's back, hardly aware that he was coming into contact with more blood and covering more sore areas with abrasive skin.

He just needed more, more touch, more purchase, more Vincent. I love you, he thought, but dared not say it aloud again. "But sometimes it's worth it t'be sad, if it makes ya stronger." I love you so much it breaks m'heart…but that makes me stronger, so it's okay. It's okay.

"But why must strength be purchased at such a high cost?" Vincent murmured. His back was beginning to burn again as the slowly oozing blood washed away the salve in places. He pulled back to sit on his heels, and looked at Cid, blushing lightly. "I'm bleeding again. May I ask a favor of you in requesting your assistance in cleaning it up, and reapplying the salve? You don't have to, I can just as easily use the shower it is just…" He broke off, looking down briefly as his blush deepened. "It's just that I enjoy it when you touch me."

"Do ya now?" Cid mused in a murmur, then grinned widely. "'Course I will. We left it in th'bathroom, huh? Go on 'n get comf'table; I'll be right back." On impulse, he waited until Vincent was standing to attempt it himself. He was surprised by the hand that reached out to him; he took it gladly, smiling warmly at Vincent as he stood steadily with the other man's aid. He inspected the carpet; no blood had dripped onto it. When Cid returned from washing his hands and collecting the salve and a wet cloth, Vincent was lying on his belly on the bed, head turned to face the window though its shades were down. He settled onto the bed beside Vincent and, after allowing Vincent to clean his slightly bloodied hand, wiped away the rest of the blood.

There was not as much as he had initially feared, and for that he was glad. He was also glad that none appeared to have gotten into Vincent's hair. He waited for the damp skin to dry, thumb rubbing circles at Vincent's hip. Feeling that enough time had passed, Cid uncapped the vial and began re-applying the salve, giving the same amount of care he had earlier, if not more. "Do look like they're healin' clean, at least," Cid said just to break the silence. When all the cuts on Vincent's back had again been treated, Cid moved the vial to the bedside stand and returned the washcloth to the bathroom. He went back to the bed and settled on his back beside Vincent, face turned away from the window so he could watch Vincent's face. He said no more, only smiled a small grin and shifted closer to peck Vincent's lips.

Returning the quick kiss willingly, Vincent then settled his head down to rest upon his forearm. For a few quiet moments he watched Cid's face thoughtfully before reaching up with is free hand and gently tracing the skin at the outside of one of the cop's blue eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice smile?" he murmured, stroking the soft skin there. "It makes the skin wrinkle here. I like that. You should do it more often." He then returned his hand to rest just beneath his chin and contented himself to watching Cid again. Finally, he said huskily, "But something has just occurred to me."

"Been a long time since I heard that," he mumbled, enjoying the soft touch and deciding to never regret aging badly again. Cid kept smiling for Vincent as they watched each other. He blinked lazily, happily, before replying, "An' what might that be?"

Vincent scooted closer, careful to keep his back as immobile as possible, and said as he slowly closed the distance between their mouths, "I haven't finished kissing you yet. May I be so bold as to finish what I started?" he asked, and gently sealed their lips together.

Every other time they had kissed had been frantic or wrought with heavy emotion. Now, Vincent took his time, feeling everything about what he was doing, relaxed and peaceful. He could tell the difference between Cid's lips and the lips of the women he had kissed in his life. The lips under his own now were thinner and firmer. Another difference was that unlike with the female lovers he had had, even the feistier ones, who had eventually submitted to his attention, Cid met him as an equal. The man did not back down; Cid advanced when he retreated, and gave when he pushed. It was as though Cid knew exactly where and how to kiss him, to touch him, to create the most sensation. There was no fumbling, no blind caresses in an attempt to get it right. Everything was done with a purpose for a desired response…and it turned him on.

But now, as before, it was just the two of them, kissing and touching. Vincent's tongue slid against Cid's, again and again in wet, velvety strokes, and he brought the arm that he was not propped on, up to run his hand gently over Cid's chest. His fingers fluttered over one of the cop's nipples, and he was rewarded with a little hitch in the other man's breath, as Highwind arched at little into the touch. Intrigued, he kept his fingers over the stiffening nub. He knew what he liked, and wondered if such action would gain him the same reaction. He was not disappointed as Cid moaned softly into his mouth. Vincent then began to move his hand toward the other side of Cid's chest, and encountered the dog tags that he had purchased for Cid's birthday the week past.

Breaking off the kiss, he lifted his head to look down at the thin, shaped pieces of metal in his fingers now. He smiled as he fingered them. "I don't know why, but I thought of you when I saw them." He turned back to gaze into Cid's blue eyes, nearly black his pupils were dilated so far. He nuzzled Cid's cheek briefly before asking, "Have you thought of what to put on them yet?"

Cid nodded against Vincent, but did not tell him what the tags would read. "I'm glad y'got 'em for me. I like 'em." He did not mention the fact that he had put them on only that morning. He was breathless, turned on, and hungry still for more of Vincent's attention. Thinking was difficult; feeling was easy. Vincent had it all backwards, the silly man, Cid decided. "Maybe I'll tell ya if y'don't stop," he teased, grinning and kissing Vincent again.

Vincent pulled back and chuckled. "It would make telling me anything quite hard if I have my tongue in your mouth, Cid Highwind." But he wanted his tongue there, and so he replaced it, only to pause again when the cop whimpered and began to squirm a little. "What- are you all right?" It was then that he noticed the rather obvious tent in the man's lightweight boxers. Vincent grinned slowly. "Perhaps I can help with this?" He then made to begin moving down the bed but stopped short with a hiss as newly forming scabs and existing old ones pulled painfully. Instead he resettled next to Cid, and began to kiss the man again, not increasing speed, but keeping them slow and lazy while his free arm slid down Cid's well muscled abdomen and to the elastic waistband of the cop's boxers. Hooking long fingers under the material he tugged the waistband down far enough to free Cid's erection. "Better?" he murmured against Cid's lips.

"Fuck," Cid said shortly, instinctively reaching up and gripping Vincent's arm tightly. "This is why it's bad fer you t'touch me. I get like this so fast, when it's you…" And he knew he would not be able to do anything but give in, though technically Vincent had never asked Cid to tell him what the tags would bear. "Love's not Time's fool," he whispered, lips brushing Vincent's as he spoke. He kissed him again, fighting the almost overwhelming urge to roll them over and press Vincent into the mattress only by reminding himself of the cuts decorating the other man's back. "Though rosy lips an' cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come." He remembered the words, of course; they were old favorite lines of his mother's. Reciting them now, however, proved difficult. "Love…alters not with his brief hours an' weeks, but bears it out," Cid finished, "even to the edge of doom." One more kiss and a nearly desperate roll of his hips, and he joked, "Whatcha think? Too sappy fer a tough, manly thing like me?" His eyes asked for approval, and reward, in the form of being brought to another kind of edge.

Vincent felt his heart begin to soften. "You would put my poem on them?" He breathed, kissing Cid with such fervor he made himself breathless. He then wrapped his fingers around Cid's cock and began to pump it firmly; slowly at first then gradually increasing in speed as he listened to Cid's reaction, gauging easily where the man's body was in its journey toward orgasm. He had hooked one of his slack-clad legs over Cid's thigh and was instinctively rubbing himself against the cop's body as best he could in his awkward position, in an attempt to ease some of his own self-induced discomfort. "Oh, C-Cid," he gasped, as he began a slight twisting motion with the hand working Cid's cock. Desperately he locked their lips together again. When they pulled apart he could just manage to pant, "It's perfect."

"I liked that."

"Good." Cid smiled back, not surprised to find that Vincent's smile made him feel wonderful. "I'm glad t'hear it." He settled back down as well, resting close to the warmth of Vincent's body and rubbing his cheek against the smooth shoulder. Cid kissed the flesh there in apology for the irritation his stubble had likely caused before sliding up to rest with his head directly alongside Vincent's. He smiled again and carefully brought his arm up to push hair away from Vincent's ear to give himself access to it in order to whisper, "You make me feel so good, Vincent. Like I'm worth somethin'." Few people bothered to treat him that way or even to keep up a caring façade, but Vincent clearly cared enough to at least pretend…though Cid didn't think he was pretending. "Thank you fer bein' here with me."

"You are worth something." Vincent said softly, blinking slowly and burrowing his head further down into the pillow of his arms. "Everyone is worth something to someone. You were right. And you are worth something to me." His voice shook a fraction when he said, "You caught me when I fell. I shall never forget that, Cid."

"I'll always catch you," Cid whispered back, going in for one last soft kiss before Vincent's mouth disappeared behind his arms. "Can't promise I won't let ya fall again, but I'll always catch ya." He was then faced with one last dilemma: go under the covers to sleep and be separated from Vincent, or stay atop the comforter and savor the body heat that was so much warmer? He settled on the latter just on principle. Chances were that they would spend more time talking, but Cid was thoroughly exhausted now and would not be awake much longer. "We're all disgustin' an' shit," he commented brightly, clearly delighted at the revelation.

Startled, Vincent blinked, lifting his head up off of his arms. In light of such a bizarre change in topic, he did the only thing he could think of in response. He laughed. And at Cid's equally startled expression, he only laughed harder. He actually had to shut his eyes in an attempt to get himself under control as everything suddenly became funny to him. When he finally had gotten control of himself and brought his laughter down to broken chuckles, he wiped the tears from his eyes and said, "Why yes, we are, aren't we? I don't mind, not in the least, but I think perhaps your comforter has had it."

Having started laughing after a few seconds of watching Vincent, Cid snorted at the last statement. "Yeah, I reckon it has. Hell, it's ugly anyway," he said loudly, gesturing at the ceiling rather than the comforter, then blinking as he struggled to remember just what it was he was trying to say. "Fuck, we're tired," he observed, snickering a bit more. "We couldn't get up in th'mornin' if we wanted to after all o' this."

Vincent smiled softly, but did not reply. Instead he scooted over to lie so that he was touching Cid a little more, and very soon the two men were asleep.

- Meanwhile, at that very same moment, at other end of the plate -

"You're sure?"

"Positive. He has enough to put you away for seven lifetimes."

"Pity. He's been most useful." Rufus sighed.

"Everyone is replaceable, Mr. ShinRa."

"Yes they are, aren't they?" Rufus said from where he stood at his long bank of windows. "Can you get to that information?"

"No. He keeps it locked in a safe that only he has the combination for."

"Then we shall have to break the safe, won't we?" Rufus said as though speaking to an exceptionally slow child.

"Again, that is easier said than done," came the cold reply. "He has several safes, half of which only he knows the location to. He's not stupid, Mr. ShinRa."

"So he has proven on multiple occasions." Rufus grit out between clenched teeth. "Which leaves us no choice, but to eliminate the source. Then we can take our time, slowly ripping apart his carefully constructed little world one contact at time until I find what I want." Rufus grew thoughtful, tapping his chin with the letter opener he held. "You know, quite frankly I'm surprised he hasn't suspected you before this, given how close you are to him."

"Which is precisely why he'll never suspect me."

"Still," Rufus sighed almost sadly, as thought his informant had never even spoken. "I'd hate to lose him. He has proven most useful, and his body is so very resilient to my…unique, brand of affection, plus he is rather pretty; not to mention disgustingly easy to manipulate."

"You underestimate him, Mr. ShinRa. He's far more dangerous than you make him out to be," his informant warned. "The pieces are in place. He is about to checkmate your king in the next three days."

"Then we'll have to do something about that tonight then, won't we?" Rufus said simply.

"He's meeting with the cop tonight, but he'll be in bright and early Sunday. He's nothing if not dedicated and predictable."

"Staying over, are we?" Rufus sneered, eyes sparkling evilly as he recognized more leverage to use against Valentine, should he fail to remove him. He received a nod in reply. "How hypocritical, to pollute one's bed in such a manner."

There was silence between the two, as Rufus turned back to the widow he was standing at. Through the smog and gaps in the plate in noticed the red disk of the moon. "How ominous," Rufus said darkly, his voice oily and slick. "It's a blood moon tonight."

A cold smile, which he did not see, was all he got in reply.