We're almost near the end, folks...uh, hello? Anyone out there? Darnit, I think they've all left...

Warnings: Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

Disclaimer: The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

Chapter eleven, otherwise named: 'Tsk, look at all the swearing.'

"Wrench."

Vincent handed it over. Their fingertips brushed, sending a pleasant tingle throughout his body. Judging from Cid's split-second smile, he had felt it also.

"Screwdriver, third largest."

"How's it looking, Chief?" Vincent inquired as he passed it over.

"Better than before. The rain and wind wasn't too kind on her, though," Cid answered, and turned the screwdriver a few times before stepping back from the small plane, "Eh, that'll do for now. I can always do more maintenance tomorrow."

"Oh? What are you planning to do now then?"

"I was thinkin' I might fly..." The pilot murmured, and leaned in to place a kiss on Vincent's throat. The gunner shivered happily under the ministrations, but logic forced him to push Cid back.

"Cid, Shera is just inside the house-"

"Nah, she went out to the store. That gives us plenty of time to..." He left the sentence unfinished as he began kissing Vincent again, hands briefly toying with the long black hair before trailing down to the small of his back.

"Cid," Vincent gasped whenever their lips parted, uttering the name just because he wanted, because it sounded so good, "Cid..."

"Vin, if you keep moanin' my name like that, I 'aint gonna stop at kissin'," Cid muttered lowly, and pushed the gunner furthered back, against the workbench. All manner of mechanical tools were swept out of the way as Vincent sat down, still not breaking the kiss, and pulled Cid down with him. His hands reached up to entangle in Cid's short blond locks as he leaned back, breathing punctuated with gasps and moans.

"#!£&, #!£&, #!£&," Cid swore like a mantra, struggling to brace himself on trembling arms, "Jesus #!£&in' Christ Vin, Vincent, my Vincent..."

"More," Came Vincent's short demand as his hands travelled over Cid's back and pulled down. The result was Cid accidently grinding into him, which sent a pleasurable shudder through both men; Vincent threw his head back, revealing the smooth white expanse of neck that Cid was happy to claim. Without really thinking, he lifted his legs to wrap around the man's waist, which earned him a gasp and a spluttered stream of obscenities. It was chaotic and hazardous, all the pent-up frustrations and longing released in one go. At the same time, it was raw and passionate, like the storm that Cid seemed to embody, and it destroyed all conscious thought.

So much so, in fact, that neither man heard the key scrape in the lock of the front door.

Neither heard the footsteps, which paused at the amount of commotion coming from the back yard.

Neither heard the back door being opened in apprehension.

But both heard Shera's puzzled words: "What's all the noise-" And then a shocked silence.

It felt like ice flooding his veins. He turned his head, dreading what he was about to see, and yet unable to ignore it. Sure enough, Shera was staring at the two of them with a hurt and horrified expression, her skin several shades paler than normal as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing.

And then she ran back into the house in tears.

"Shera - Goddamnit - #!£&," Cid's voice went from panicked to defeated, and one hand immediately went up to grab a cigarette, "#!£&!"

"Go apologise," Vincent said quietly.

"What?" The pilot gaped, cigarette momentarily forgotten, "But-"

"Go. Apologise."

"...Alright," They pulled apart, and Cid headed into the house after Shera. Vincent remained motionless for a while, trying to gather his thoughts after such an abrupt change in circumstance, before he too went into the house. He found Cid upstairs, stood outside the door to his and Shera's bedroom.

"Shera, come out! Look, I can explain..." He then paused as he realised that there was really no other way to explain how she had found them besides the truth, "I - I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean for you to get hurt..."

He waited for a reply, but didn't receive one. Frustration building, he drew one hand back to punch the wall, but stopped himself in time.

"#!£&..." He muttered lowly to himself, "What the #!£& do I do now...?"

"She still isn't answering?" Vincent asked later on, when day had turned to night.

"Not a word. I'd have thought she wasn't in there, but I can hear her cryin'," The pilot rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Jesus #!£&...I don't love her, but that doesn't mean I like seein' her upset...#!£&..."

"You said she wouldn't find out, Cid. You swore."

"I know," He answered, but he lacked the energy to get angry or upset, "I know. I didn't hear her come through the front door...#!£&, I screwed up. This is a #!£&in' royal mess."

"It was going to happen eventually, I suppose," Vincent shook his head, "You can sleep here tonight, Chief. We'll sort it out in the morning."

"I hope so," Cid lay down on Vincent's bed, eyes already heavy with fatigue, "I'm so #!£&in' tired...it's like all my energy just flew out the window."

"You're not the only one," Vincent turned off the light before settling himself beside the pilot. Given his mako-enhanced vision, he could see the apprehension and longing on the man's face quite clearly: "Do you want something, Cid?"

"Just..." An arm reached towards the ex-Turk hesitantly; Vincent sighed and moved into the embrace, breathing softly against Cid's collarbone.

"Try to go to sleep," He told the pilot quietly, "And with any luck this will sort itself out."