We really didn't die! We've been busy, and we recently ran across a huge patch of the story that needed touching up. You guys wouldn't want our half-baked story when you can get the real thing, would you?

Also, ShadowCasper and Anne Louise, you both need to comment again so you can tell me what you want in your prize fics! I didn't forget, I just haven't had time lately. School's almost over for the semester, though, so I'll get on those as soon as you let me know what you're looking for.

Warnings for this chapter: Corny dialogue and such (courtesy of Cid) and much description of the male body, but nothing too "interesting." Enjoy!

Cid groaned as he woke, trying to determine where the pain signals were coming from. He registered first that Vincent was lying on him again, and he huffed in both amusement and affection before he realized that Vincent was exactly why he was hurting. "I don't know how you do it, but we wake up like this ever' time," he said, pressing a kiss to Vincent's face just below his ear. Cid scooted minutely away, but Vincent frowned in his sleep and followed, apparently chasing the warmth and comfort of Cid's body. Sighing, Cid decided to just bear it, but then Vincent settled in more firmly, and Cid could have sworn he heard something crack as the pressure increased. Vincent's elbow pressed harder, and Cid gasped and let out a nearly shrill sound of pain. He groaned and pulled Vincent's arm away, kissing the side of the other man's neck to wake him up. "Vincent…y'gotta move, sugar, this ain't workin'. Wake up for me real quick an' then I'll letcha go back t'sleep."

Vincent very nearly leapt awake at the squall of pain from Cid. The kiss to his neck did little to reassure him. Blinking confusedly, he sat up, pushing at his now-wild mane of hair, he looked at Cid with concern. "What is it? What happened?"

"Y'got some sharp elbows, s'what happened," Cid huffed, shifting again as Vincent's weight did. "Y'know I'd love t'hold ya like this, but seems like I ain't ready for it yet," he said quietly, not wanting to make Vincent feel guilty. "Didn't think I could move ya m'self."

"I'm sorry." Vincent murmured, and sat back, crossing his legs as he did so. Experimentally he shrugged his shoulders and twisted his torso a little, finding that his wounds had very nearly healed all the way. Now all that would remain would be a few new scars. He touched his cheek, and found only a light welt in the place where the cut had been. He sighed silently in relief that there would be no scar. Some time in the night, someone – most likely Cid – had tugged the comforter over onto them haphazardly, and he pulled a corner over across his lap now to hide his nudity. He wanted sleep pants, and it took a great deal of effort to keep from fidgeting in his discomfort. "Do you require pain medication?" He asked in an effort to distract himself from both his discomfort and rising guilt that he had caused Cid pain.

Cid, known for the ability to sleep for days, just shook his head groggily. Now that the pressure on his chest was gone, there was nothing but warmth…with the occasional stab of pain, of course, but it wasn't bad enough anymore to concern him. What did concern him was the fact that Vincent was, for all intents and purposes, going away. "How 'bout you? S'more o' that smelly stuff?" Cid easily read Vincent's shyness, and he smiled and said, "There's th'same ones ya used last time in th'second drawer, right on top." He hoped Vincent would hurry back. "Still real early," he commented, noticing the light just beginning to creep in under the shades. "F'we hurry, we c'n get back t'sleep 'fore it's too bright." He grinned, consciously aware now that Vincent had pointed it out that the skin around his eyes wrinkled as he did so.

Vincent shook his head, at the same time grateful for the loan of the sleep pants. "No, my back is healed now, it is only mildly irritated, so no more 'smelly stuff'." His lips twitched up in a brief smile right before he slid out of bed and hurried over to the dresser to carefully rummage around until he found the pants that Cid had loaned him the weekend before. Keeping his back to Cid, he bent over, stepped into the soft cotton pants, and pulled them up and over his hips. When he turned back around, he noticed that Cid had re-positioned himself the right way in the bed, and had even turned the covers down for him. Hesitating in minor indecision, he finally walked back over and slid into the bed again, careful to stay to his side of the mattress and not crowd Cid, who was very clearly still uncomfortable.

It was perhaps too early for Cid to react to the sight of Vincent nude and dressing, but that did not stop him from watching appreciatively. When the other man returned to the bed, Cid huffed at him again and reached for him. "I give you pants, an' I don't get a kiss? What th'hell kind of arrangement is this?" he asked, playing at bewilderment and smiling sleepily.

"I'm sorry, I-" Vincent said, feeling the familiar melancholy descend back upon him. He leaned forward and gave Cid a quick peck before returning to his side of the bed. "Go back to sleep, Cid." He rolled over and stared at the wall. He remembered what last night had felt like; the freedom he had felt when he had become someone else. "I want that back" he thought, not realizing he had breathed it out loud. With a sigh, he tugged the blankets up to his chin, closed his eyes and attempted to recall sleep to him.

Dammit, Vincent. Cid wasn't angry, but he was upset just a little by the fact that he did not know how to help. Knowing that putting his arms around Vincent now would be as good as smothering him, Cid instead got up slowly and walked around the bed to squat and rest his arms and chin on the bed at Vincent's eye level. "Y'say y'want it back, but y'don't fight t'keep it," he said softly, and his tone was not accusatory, but informative. "Is it what I said, Vincent? 'Cause y'can't pay no attention t'that. I'm an idiot, Vincent. I'm gonna say things, do things, that are insensitive and poorly said and done. An' half th'time I don't know what I'm doin' wrong but I know it's somethin'."

He paused, taking a breath as he searched for something to say that would change the blank look on Vincent's face; the other man had opened his eyes not long after Cid had begun speaking. "I'll never hurt you on purpose, Vincent, but I can't promise –hell, I can't even pretend- that I ain't gonna hurt ya accidentally. But you c'n have back what we had last night anytime you want it. Y'just gotta try, honey. I'm always gonna be here waitin' for ya." He smiled and reached out to cup Vincent's face, thumb tracing the disappearing line there. He paused again and then said, on inspiration, "Do ya still want me t'let ya go? Still think it'll never work? 'Cause me, I think about us all th'time. Places I wanna take ya, things I wanna do with ya, secrets I c'd tell ya that'd be only b'tween us. Y'want me t'tell ya 'bout some of it?" he asked, attempting to divert the conversation from the melancholy.

"Yes." Vincent whispered, and felt his heart break a little. "I want you to let me go…but not because I want you to, because deep down, in my heart of hearts I do not want that, but because it is the right thing to do. We are too different, you see? We come from two separate worlds, you and I, and I am not worthy of you. You deserve a life, and I cannot give you that." He looked sorrowfully at Cid. "I can only give you death. You may not believe it, but it's only a matter of time." He reached out and gripped Cid's hand hard, suddenly desperate to explain himself. "I'm not playing you, you must believe me. The others…" his voice began to shake a little, but he kept it strong, if soft. "…When the others fucked me, that is all it was. I used the brutality and the pain to separate myself from them. I let them use me, so that I could get what I wanted, and then I killed most of them. The fact that they saw me as the whore that I am meant nothing to me, they meant nothing to me. But you are different. I do not know how, but you are. When I look in the mirror, I see a whore, and I know that you can do better." Reluctantly, he released Cid's hand and fisted it in the blanket once again, but held Cid's gaze. "But when I am with you, like last night, for a moment…just a moment, I forgot all of that; who I am, who I was…but it's just an illusion. Can you possibly understand? How can I hold onto something that is not even real? I would sooner touch the stars or hold a shadow within my grasp!" Unable to keep his hands away, he reached out one last time and cupped Cid's cheek. "So keep your precious secrets, Cid. Keep them safe, so that you might share them with someone who is worthy of them."

Cid was still and silent through Vincent's speech, but now that it was done, he spoke. "Well, yer outta luck there. I c'd no more let ya go than I could tear out m'own heart an' go on livin'. If this illusion's too much for ya, then I'll be the stars, an' I'll be yer shadow. I'll be all around ya everywhere ya look." He kissed the palm of the hand resting on his cheek. "Y're no whore, Vincent, an' there's nobody more worthy o' my secrets than the one who already holds m'heart. I don't have any secrets now that y'don't know already, but I do have this." Not waiting for an reply, Cid haphazardly slid himself back into bed beside Vincent. "Close yer eyes. Just imagine with me, Vincent, an' don't think. Listen, now."

He paused for a breath, then began, "We could go anywhere. Maybe a warm little cabin up in th'mountains, just me an' you. We'd get ourselves a little fire goin' an' curl up next to it, propped up on pillows an' maybe one o' them beanbag chairs. Fer a long time, maybe forever, we'd just lay there like that. Then one of us'd look up at th'other, an' he'd look back, an' we'd spend another whole eternity just lookin' at each other. Then I'd kiss ya, an y'd roll over onta me, just like this," Cid said, demonstrating by lying on his back and gently pulling Vincent atop him. Red eyes flew open at the repositioning to stare down at Cid. "Y'd look down at an' raise an eyebrow, actin' fer all the world like you own me. Ya do. I'd never give this much o' m'self t'anyone else. We'd make love then, I think, all warm by the fire. An' we'd never hafta be anything but Cid an' Vincent, an' wouldn't that just be beautiful?" He reached up to press his lips to Vincent's, quickly drawing back to spew yet another fantasy. "Or maybe it wouldn't be just us. Midgar's full o' orphans, ain't it? We c'd handle one or two, I'd say, huh? Boys. An' one of 'em c'd grow up an' fall in love w'Shera's girl, an' th'other c'd fall in love wi' Tseng an' Aerith's youngest, 'cause they'll be married an' happy an' spittin' out kids every couple years, an' we'd all be real fam'ly. How would that be, Vince, t'have fam'ly again like that? I didn't appreciate it when I should have, an' I regret that now."

"I know it all sounds like just a bunch o' pretty words t'you, but fer me, it's what keeps me goin' sometimes." His eyes met Vincent's, and he held them until Vincent looked away.

Blinking rapidly as his eyes burned, Vincent leaned down and kissed the skin over Cid's big heart. "It is a fine dream, Cid Highwind." He then laid his head back down on Cid's chest to keep the cop from seeing his face. When he spoke again, his voice shook as the tears lost their hold and fell upon his cheeks. "You hold on to that dream. Keep it safe and do not let it go." Vincent held on to Cid as he felt just how tenuous their time together really was. He would give up everything he had…to believe what Cid had just told him. If there was one lesson he had learned in this life, and learned well, it was that if something sounded too good to be true, then it usually was.

Cid put his arms around Vincent, no longer caring if his back hurt because of it. He let the tears fall but did not add his own. He was sorry for Vincent, that he had been dealt such a cruel hand that he could no longer even dream. "I'll dream fer both of us, Vincent," he said, and kissed the top of the dark-haired head. "All you gotta do is stay with me, an' all be happy. Dontcha see, Vincent, that it don't matter t'me if y'give me death instead o' life? I'd rather that than let ya go. What's th'point in livin' if I can't be with you? There ain't none, not anymore. I'm too far gone." He smiled wryly at that last, knowing how true it was and not caring.

"I am truly sorry for that, Cid…so very sorry." Vincent murmured after he finally forced his damming tears away. "You keep dreaming," he said, stroking Cid's chest gently. "Just keep dreaming, and then perhaps I might feel your joy." As Vincent lay there, curled shamelessly around Cid and staring at the far wall, he wondered why he had to keep ruining things between them. Perhaps he should just not speak, but then Cid would find something else to be sad about. Finally he just said stupidly, "I'm sorry…for everything."

"Fer what? You ain't got nothin' t'be apologizin' for." The oppressing feeling of being dirty over a long period of time was starting to get to Cid, and he stretched his arms above his head. "Now we're even more disgustin'. Oughta go take care o' that," he mumbled, nuzzling at Vincent's head. "Join me?" he asked in an equally low tone.

Vincent hesitated for just a moment, before nodding and sitting up, thinking that there could not be any harm in simply sharing a shower. Cid got out of bed and led the way into the bathroom, turned on the water, and when the temperature was right, drew back the shower curtain and indicated that Vincent precede him. After first severely admonishing himself that Cid had seen him naked several times now, as well as touched him in every intimate place possible, he slid his sleep pants down and stepped carefully under the warm spray. As soon as the water hit him, he felt his muscles begin to relax, and he let his eyes drift shut as he sighed blissfully, moving to completely submerge himself under the pressured spray of water. Tilting his head back, he brought his hands up to run over his hair, smiling as the sound of water drowned everything out…even the sound of Cid getting in the shower behind him.

Admiring the view from behind for a while, Cid was silent and still until Vincent reached for the shampoo. He winced; Vincent probably kept better stuff than that. Regardless, that hair needed washing, and Cid was going to help. He got to the shampoo before Vincent did, smiling when the other man turned to look at him, and covered his hands in the stuff. He twirled a finger, telling Vincent to turn back around. When he did, Cid set to washing, quickly finding the perfect pressure to use as Vincent made soft sounds of contentment. He took his time, scrubbing and lathering and just running his fingers through the dark hair as they rinsed out the first layer and began again.

Facing Vincent now to rinse out the second coat, Cid couldn't help but kiss him, and couldn't help but run his hands appreciatively down the sides of that body, which, Cid had decided while looking earlier, really was perfect. He loved that Vincent was a few inches taller than Cid; he fit perfectly against Vincent. He tucked his face against Vincent's neck when the kiss broke, holding him close and smiling with a pure joy he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Vincent didn't think that he had ever felt such intimacy before, as Cid helped him to wash his hair. There was nothing sexual in the gesture, and yet Cid stood close and felt even closer. As he stood there now within Highwind's strong yet gentle embrace, and under the soothing water, Vincent felt…wanted, special, and he would cherish these feelings for the rest of his life regardless of what the future might bring. Pulling back, he smiled gently at Cid and duplicated the gesture the cop had given him, indicating that Cid should present him his back. With a grin, Cid did as he was told, and Vincent reached for the soap and worked up a rich lather in his hands.

Taking a moment to just gaze at that broad, strong back with its toned muscles and tawny skin, and Vincent made a mental note to ask Cid later how he stayed in shape given the man's propensity to sleep. Standing up close as he was, he could see a light dusting of freckles along Cid's shoulders as well as several scars that he hadn't noticed before. With a little sigh of appreciation, Vincent smoothed his soapy hands over Cid's back, delighting in the way the muscles bunched and relaxed as Cid shifted and moved as he soaped. Then Vincent stepped out of the way and the let the shower spray fall onto Cid's back and watched, entranced as the water sluiced away the soap. When all the soap was rinsed away, leaving behind glistening golden skin, Vincent couldn't stop himself as he leaned down to begin leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses along the breadth of Cid's shoulders, stopping here and there to suck or leave a playful nip. While his mouth was busy, so were his hands as they fumbled for the soap and worked up more lather. After he put the bar back, he slid his arms around Cid's waist and began soaping the cop's ribbed abdomen, shivering as he massaged the soap into the flesh there, working his way slowly up until he could run his hands over Cid's pectorals. Finally, Vincent's mouth trailed up Cid's neck to the man's ear where he sucked on the earlobe Cid had turned in his direction. "You are too good to me, I do not deserve you, you know." He chuckled softly when Cid moaned and tipped his head back to rest upon his shoulder.

"Well, y'have me, an' that's that. Now kiss me." The angle was awkward, as Vincent still wouldn't let him turn around, but they managed with no trouble. Those hands, wonderful hands with their smooth skin and long fingers and manicured nails, kept moving over his chest, massaging firmly and now deliberately passing over his nipples. Cid thought the next shuddering breath he exhaled would send him sprawling back against the man behind him. "Vincent," he huffed, knowing that he would be unable to keep arousal at bay if this kept up, "ain't it my turn yet?" Vincent's hands slowly slid away from him, and they swapped positions as Vincent hesitantly gave Cid his back. Cid soaped with care, mindful of the wounds, some of which still threatened to bleed if disturbed.

It was for this reason only that he abandoned the idea of a washcloth; even the harsh texture of the cloth would have been smoother than Cid's perpetually calloused hands, but the threads would undoubtedly have pulled at scabs. He allowed his hands to drift lower than Vincent's had, but only fleetingly, teasingly. He kissed Vincent's neck as the water poured over them both, then stepped away to allow it to rinse properly. After pushing them both safely out of the spray, he spun Vincent around then, somewhat abruptly but gently enough to keep them from slipping, to kiss him properly again. He grinned as he pulled away, mumbling, "What else needs washin'?" with a raised eyebrow. "Inside o' yer mouth does, I think," he decided, and plunged his tongue back in to administer the proper remedy.

As they kissed, Cid rubbed his hands over Vincent's front, lathering all he could reach with soap. His hands came eventually to rest on the subtle curves of Vincent's hips, and he felt hands on his back again, then arms wrapped around him, and then a shudder that seemed to come from them both as they were brought closer together. The kiss broke, and Cid's hands left Vincent's hips to allow his arms to wrap around the slim waist just above them as his head fell forward onto Vincent's shoulder. He kissed the skin there, bit at it gently, thoroughly worked it over with his mouth until Vincent gasped to let him know it was entirely too sensitive. Having greatly enjoyed his work, Cid moved to the other shoulder to duplicate it.

Red eyes lowering, and humming appreciatively, Vincent tilted his head away from Cid's mouth with a small sigh. The warm water had utterly relaxed him, and Cid's hands and lips had completely awakened all of the sensitive nerves in his skin. Later, he would wonder how a man could manage to call forth these reactions in him, but for right now, no thoughts called his mind their master. Instead, all he did was feel. He felt the slick slide of flesh upon flesh as from chest to thigh they were one unit, moving together, rubbing together, in an instinctive dance. Vincent could feel Cid's penis pressing against his own, not quite semi-erect yet, and he reached down to grip Cid's buttocks with both hands and press their bodies more firmly together, parting the firm mounds of flesh as he did so and exposing Cid's tender, secret skin to the direct spray of water. He moaned softly when Cid shuddered, and sought out his mouth once more.

Cid kissed for all he was worth, wanting to be closer. Vincent's hands set to kneading the flesh under them, and that combined with the pressure of the water was making his head spin. He pulled away only to gasp loudly and stumble slightly forward. "Vincent…" If they didn't stop touching each other like this… Cid shuddered again as Vincent released him and put his arms around Cid's waist instead. They stayed like that for some time, Cid thought, but it could in truth have been only a few seconds. The water soon grew cold, though and Cid reluctantly cut it off and followed Vincent out of the shower. He grabbed two towels, not nearly as fluffy as the ones Vincent kept, and handed one to Vincent even as he sank down to start drying Vincent from the ankles up.

Holding his towel to his chest, Vincent watched Cid drying him first without seeing to own wet body, with a mixture of roiling emotions. He was deeply touched, moved, that Cid would do this, and it only strengthened his feeling of belonging. No one had even done these things for him – showered with him, washed his hair, dried him – beyond the lifetime ago when he was but a babe in swaddling clothes. Not even his dear Lucrecia had done anything like this, nor he for her. And this served to only endear Highwind to him even more. He parted his legs obediently as Cid worked his way up, swallowing convulsively at the surge of lust that began to tingle in his belly and thighs as Cid lingered at his groin, eyeing it and licking his lips as if the cop would like nothing more than to take his cock into his mouth…with an internal jolt, Vincent put a stop to that train of thought before he could embarrass himself.

When Cid was once again on his feet and facing him, Vincent gently stopped the man, meeting those blue eyes levelly, warmly, then dropped to his knees and returned the favor. His hair was still dripping, sending rivulets of water down his sides and back, and running into his face, but he diligently kept going. First the feet, then up to the strong calves, Cid's knees – where he noticed a angry scar running over one, and he leaned forward to kiss it lovingly, before moving up to the powerful thighs. He grew nervous and uncomfortable when he arrived at Cid's genitals, but he pushed through it, gently drying and even managing to kiss the tender skin just to the right of the base of Cid's cock, as he wrapped his arms around Cid's waist to dry the man's lower back and buttocks. Finishing that quickly, he then stood, drying as he went until only Cid's hair was wet, and Vincent was looking at Highwind out from under strings of long, wet hair.

Cid hadn't expected Vincent to reciprocate, but the surprise had been a pleasant one. When they were both standing again, he turned Vincent around and wrapped the towel around his hair, gently wringing it before catching the stray drops that had undone his earlier job of drying Vincent. He didn't want to speak; they had been silent for so long, and it had been so meaningful somehow that Cid was almost afraid to lose it. Still, if they remained trapped in their own spell, they would never leave the bathroom. That wouldn't be so bad a fate if it weren't so hot and humid…and if Cid's stomach hadn't taken to growling in complaint. Guess that settles that. "I don't keep a hair dryer," he said sheepishly, so y're prob'ly best off lettin' it dry on its own than tryin'a towel-dry it. That'll put knots in it take hours t'get out, hair like that." He ran his hand appreciatively through the already slightly tangled locks. "Might wanna comb it, though. I got one o' them," he said, producing a weak-looking plastic comb that was missing several teeth. "…Well, maybe not," he sighed, "an' you don't have any other clothes t'put on either, do ya? M'gonna hafta start keepin' some stuff here just fer you if y'keep stayin' nights," Cid said, grinning. "C'mon, let's go have brea- uh, brunch, an' see if there's anything worth watchin' on TV, huh? C'n lend ya this robe thingy Shera got me. I don't see no sense in it, me, but it'll prob'ly fit ya better'n more o' my clothes." He opened the bathroom closet and took down the pale yellow terrycloth robe that had been hanging on the inside. He offered it to Vincent, hoping the other man didn't find it nearly as offensive a color as Cid did.

Vincent took the hideous robe in between two fingers, and held it away from him. He looked at Cid and blinked. "I…appreciate it, but…I simply cannot wear this." But nor did he wish to walk around nude. "If you have no objections, I should like to just wear the sleep pants that you loaned me the…last time, I was here." He handed Cid the robe back apologetically. As Cid re-hung the robe with the offer of "Well it's here if'n y'want it," Vincent slipped the discarded sleep pants back on and followed Cid out into the living room, taking up a position on the worn couch and began finger-combing his hair. He then put his hair back in a braid, wishing for a tie of some sort, while Cid wandered into the kitchen.