The pilot slunked up to his front door, still shaking from the horrid events he'd witnessed. He'd desroyed every file that he could locate of them, but the images still hung behind his eyes. It was really late, and a chill coursed through his body. He had no clue what time it was. Hell, he didn't even know how long he'd been gone. He'd be surprised if Vincent wasn't off scouring the planet for him.

The key sounded heavily in the lock, making him flinch. If Vincent was still in there, he didn't want to disturb him. The poor guy had probably passed out by now. Cid pushed the door open, entering the dark house. He sighed, closing the door gently behind him. A hand scrubbed his chin. The stubble on his face had gotten considerably long in his absence. However; just as he was heading upstairs, he became aware of the light coming from within the den.

His jaw dropped. Was he really still up?

Quietly, he sneaked into the room, peering over the back of the couch. Sure enough, there lay his beautiful husband, curled up on the couch… sleeping. A smile crept onto the pilot's face. After seeing those eyes screaming with agony, it was good to see them closed in the gentle retreat of sleep. The gunman's arms were wrapped around his body, clutching the shirt he was wearing. That's when Cid noticed something a bit strange. He'd never seen Vincent wear that shirt before.

It was nearly twice as big as he was, buttons connecting it all the way up the front. The blue and red flanel, complete with a large rip on the collar, and oil stains trailing along the hem. Cid tried to stiffle a laugh. He hadn't even worn that shirt all that much, til he met Vincent. Red and blue were just two colors he never used to think went well together.

Cid just wanted to stay there and watch him sleep. He'd always loved watching Vincent sleep, but this time he couldn't even tear his eyes away from him. Vincent sighed, his head falling to the side, knocking loose hairs over his face. Without even thinking about it, Cid reached a hand down, brushing the strands aside. His fingers traced along the delicate curves of the gunman's cheekbones, on down to his lips. Cid followed his hand, moving around to sit down on the couch next to the sleeping form. His eyes softened, beginning to tear slightly, as the pale lips reacted to his touch, parting slightly to let out a gentle moan. Cid's fingers continued on down, sliding along the soft skin of his lover's left arm, gently taking the hand in his. It was incredible how the gunman reacted to him. It was as if he still desperately craved the pilot's touch… even in his sleep.

Slowly, Cid leaned forward, wrapping his lips around his lover's, craddling the lax hand gently in his own. A subtley appreciative moan, flowed into his mouth, the lips acting as if they wanted to push back, his hand closing around the ones embracing him.

The pilot pulled back, biting his lip, as he watched those crimson eyes flutter slightly, not fully wanting to open. They clenched back, the connecting body stretching out so he could try to awaken. The reality that there was someone there, beginning to dawn on him. He finally opened his eyes, staring at the figure before him, trying to make out who it was, then rubbed his eyes.

Cid smiled, tracing a hand along the side of his face. "Hey, beautiful."

Vincent gasped, immediately recognizing the voice. "Cid?" His eyes sparked and he shot up, throwing his arms around his husband, tears nesting against his cheeks. "Cid! I missed you so much. Where have you been?"

Cid just smiled, pulling him tighter, still fighting against his own tears. It felt so good to hear that voice laced with love, instead of pain. "I was fighting with something really bad. But I was thinking of you the whole time. I'm sorry I was gone so long."

"It's ok. I'm just so glad you're finally back. Just one day away form you is torture."

Torture.

The word hit Cid straight in the gut, like a knife twisting up towards his heart. Why did he have to say that?

"Cid?" Vincent had moved back from the embrace, worry etched into his face, tears glistening against the pale skin. "What's wrong?" He brushed a hand under Cid's eye, proving that he was crying as well.

Cid wiped his face, smiling to his husband. "Vince, have I ever told you how incredible you are?"

Vincent smiled, blushing slightly. He didn't appreciate the change in subject, but it didn't really matter right now. "You say it quiet often, actually."

The pilot brushed a hand against his face. "Well I mean it more and more, every time."

"Oh, Cid. Ouch!"

Cid jumped back in horror, as a thin cut on the gunman's cheek, closed into an even thinner red mark. He'd hurt him! Ohmygod, he had hurt Vincent! He'd added another scar to that beautiful face! "I'm so sorry." He spat out, in a near panic.

Vincent touched a hand to his cheek, wiping off the small trace of blood that still lingered, examining the red liquid now on his fingers. "It's ok. But how did you *gasp* ohmygod, Cid! What happened to your hand!?"

"Huh? What?" Cid looked down at his hand, having completely fogotten about the glass still lodged into his skin. "Oh… that's nothing. Vince, I hurt you."

"What are you talking about?" He took the pilot's hand in his, examining it. "Oh my-Cid, there's glass in your hand. It's all red and infected. Why didn't you get this looked at?"

Cid shrugged. "Guess I didn't really think about it. But I scratched you."

Vincent's eyes fixed on him like 'will you shut up'. "Cid that's nothing. It's already healed, see?"

"Yea, but… you have another scar… because of me."

The pained glistening in his lover's eyes began to explain to Vincent just why he was so upset about it. He sighed, placing the hand back on the pilot's lap. "Let me tend to your hand, before we start up with this."

He darted into the kitchen. A few clinks from the cabnet could be heard, followed by running water, and Vincent came back with a bowl. He sat back down on the couch, folding his legs in, and placed the pilot's hand into the bowl. It burned from the salt mixed in with the hot water, making the pilot cringe.

Vincent sighed. "It's not even bleeding, now."

"Just use a cure materia on it."

Vincent looked up at CId, then leaned forward to kiss him, running a hand along the side of his face. "I have to get the glass out first, silly."

The corner of Cid's lips cocked in response to his lover's bright smile. He was so beautiful. So amazing. So strong to be able to smile like that, after what he'd been through.

He'd done that.

Vincent ran his fingers along the pilot's hand, searching for the shards, and pulled them out. A cloud of red liquid swirled into the water, and Vincent sighed from relief. "Oh good." He searched for more, carefully plucking them out one by one.

Cid had brought that smile back to the gunman's lips. The spark of hope back to his eyes. And the love back to his voice. He was even able to rip those heartwrenching screams from his beloved's dreams. The pilot was finding his own smile again. Because Vincent allowed him to love him. Because he trusted him, he was able to pull him from the darkness. Able to show him that life didn't have to be as full of sin and pain as he had thought.

"I love you."

Vincent's attention snapped away from his work, at the sudden confession. His face softened into a smile. "I love you too, Cid."

Cid leaned over to envelope his love in a kiss. It grew hungrier, from their starvation of being apart for so long. Vincent's arms moved to hold onto the pilot's strong neck. He was only able to get his head together, at the feel of a wet hand, sliding around his waist. "Cid, your hand?"

"It doesn't hurt."

"Yea but-mmm-" He was silenced with another ravaging kiss, the other hand, holding onto him. Vincent gasped as the bowl tipped slightly, from Cid's movements, staining the shirt further with the hot-bloody water.

Cid grasped the bowl, throwing it onto the floor, as gently as his libito would allow, without spilling the contents any further. With the final obsticle out of the way, the pilot held his passion closer, his hands worming their way into the loose shirt.

Vincent moaned against the lips, vibrating the thick muscle which now invaded his mouth. It seemed like an eternity since he'd felt that touch. The sensation of those hands warming his skin sent blood rushing downward at break-neck spead. A cry spilled from his lips, his stomach twisting into heat, as that soft kiss expertly caressed each sensative area around his ears.

The motion of the pilot's hands, pushing up into the front of the slender form, caused a few of the buttons to escape the hole, and allow him to explore further.

Fingers raked down Cid's back, pulling at the annoying shirt confining his skin. He groaned with the touch, breathing heavily in the ear so close to his lips. Cid's restraints were beginning to break, his hands ripping the worn shirt open, a few buttons flying across the room.

He stared down at the panting form, entranced by the movements the breathing brought to the angelic body. It was incredible. Over six years together, and his passion for this beautiful creature hadn't even began to dim. They still craved each other like a child for candy. That had to be it. Vincent was a lot sweeter than anyone else seemed to realize. In both character, and taste. "I love you." He never felt like he could say it enough. The smile those three words brought to his lover's lips made his heart melt.

Vincent slid the shirt from his arms, throwing it to the floor, as he sat up. He pulled the pilot's shirt over his head, kissing him desperately. "I need you."

They kissed again, not seeming able to get enough of each other's taste. Both thrilled to finally savor the feel of their skin touching. Warming each other with the rising heat of their bodies.

Cid's fingers gently traced along the marks in the gunman's back. He gasped, tears squeezing from his eyes again.

"Cid?" Vincent inquired, wondering why he'd stopped. "Cid, what's wrong?"

He'd always done so, and Vincent had gotten used to, and liked, the gentle touch of those fingers tracing his sensative skin, but this time was different. It was really there. The vicious marks that madman had claimed him with. How the hell hadn't he noticed this before?

"Cid?" Vincent wiped away the relentless tears, examining his face, true concern etched into those crimson eyes. "What's wrong, hon? Why'd you stop?"

Cid drew in a breath, biting his trembling lip, a hand coming up to angrilly wipe his face. No, he couldn't cry. Not for that, at least. Not in front of Vincent.

Vincent's eyes began to tear again, from worry, as he tried to get him to move his hand. "Cid. Tell me what's wrong."

Cid shook his head, trying to smile. "Nothing. It's nothing, I'm ok."

"No… you're not." The ex-Turk clutched his lover tightly, beginning to rock him. "Did something happen?"

'Not to me.' He thought, grasping desperately to the concerned man holding him. "No, I just missed you so much." He started to sob, soon able to feel a gentle hand tracing through his hair.

"It's ok, now. You're back in my arms, where you belong."

Cid burried his face into the crook of Vincent's neck, kissing the sensative skin in front of him. "Heh. That sounds a bit familiar."

Vincent laughed, squeezing his shoulders. "You just know I've been waiting for an excuse to say it."

The pilot smiled, breathing in his soft scent. "I bet you have." He kissed his neck again, causing an odd giggle to excape his lover's lips. It was uncharacteristic, and he hadn't heard it much, but the sound was simply adorable. Another kiss, and Cid started to discover what was causing it. The pilot badly needed to shave. His lips traced along the soft skin of his neck. With him still straddling his lover's waist, it was easy to dominate the superior height and rediscover the reason he needed the comfort in the first place.

A shift in the slender shoulder, and Cid looked to see those pained crimson eyes glistening with sorrow. He didn't even have to ask, and Vincent shook his head.

"Can I see?"

He breathed out, shaking his head harder, tears sliding down his cheeks, as he tried to push the marks into the back of the couch.

"Vince-"

"No, Cid." Vincent gasped, a bit desperate.

Cid's eyes softed, brushing away the tears. "Please, Vincent. I need to see it."

"I-I can't."

"Why?"

The gunman's eyes widened. Cut off guard by the obsurd question. "I just can't."

Cid sighed, lacing his fingers through the soft raven strands , drawing the head closer to kiss him. I already know, Baby."

"What!?" Vincent cried, nearly jumping over the back of the couch, if Cid wasn't still sitting on him.

The pained blue eyes softened. "I know what it says."

"No you don't! How could you!?"

Cid jerked back, a bit scared to realize Vincent was starting to shove him away. "Vincent, please. I'm not lying. I know what it says. I just want to-"

"Shut up!" He finally shoved Cid off of him, grasping his shirt from the floor, and sliding it on as he stood. "How could you possibly know what it says?" He didn't even wait for an answer, but darted up the stairs, before he was unable to stop himself from crying.

"Vincent, wait!" Cid jumped from the couch, running after him.

The door slammed shut, while he was still down the hall. Cid grabbed the handle, and twisted sharply to realize it was locked. He banged on the door, still trying to turn the handle. "Vincent, Baby, please open the door."

There was no answer. Not even a sign of movement.

Cid dropped his head against the door, cursing himself. What the hell was he thinking? This was not how he wanted to spend his first night back with Vincent. "Vincent, please. I'm sorry. I know how uncomfortable you are with it. I shouldn't have tried to force ya. I'm sorry, just let me in. I don't want our first night together to go like this." He started crying, still knocking on the door. "Please, Baby."

Again, all he received was silence. Cid knew Vincent got like this sometimes. He'd lock himself in their room, if he said something wrong, occasional wanting Cid to follow him. But at those times, he would at least respond. Whether he was telling him to 'leave him alone' or even a slight teasing 'bite me'. But it was when the gunman refused to respond, that would tell Cid he fucked up.

xXx

Having finally lamented to letting the gunman cool down, Cid had gone to take a shower. He exited the bathroom, freshly shaven, steam, from the water, still rising off his tanned shoulders. A white towel was wrapped around his waist. He had made sure to get the rest of the glass form his hand. It was still really red, but at least it didn't look all that bad.

The cloths he was wearing really stunk, and it didn't seem like a good idea to put them back on. Hopefully there were some cloths in the wash, or he'd just have to sleep naked on the couch tonight. Either way it didn't matter. A lot of times, Vincent would come down and join him to make up for whatever seemingly petty reason he was angry. Like he said earlier, he really did need him. And the ex-Turk honestly couldn't sleep peacefully without those strong arms holding him.

Besides, neither of them could stay angry with the other for too long.

Cid started downstairs, casting a longing glance in the direction of their bedroom. Was he seeing things, or was the door open slightly?

He crept over to double check, and sure enough it was. The familiar smell of cinnimon began to fill his nose. That would explain why the lights were out… Vincent seemed to love that candle. The door grunted slightly as it opened, allowing Cid to peer in. He was a bit shocked to see his husband sitting on the floor in front of him, wearing that black satin robe he'd gotten him when the gunman started 'spending the night'.

The crimson eyes gleamed brilliantly in the dark room as they turned up to him, making the pilot's heart stop. The images of them being the only thing he could see in that cold room began to flood his mind. So many sparks of emotion he'd seen reflected in them.

"I'm sorry."

Cid jumped at the sudden words. "What?"

The luminous orbs closed, soon seen to be shifting down. "You were right. This isn't how we should be spending this night. I overreacted, and I'm sorry."

The pilot's eyes softened. Why the hell did he think he needed to apologize? "It's alright, Vincent. I know I shouldn't have asked about it."

"No, it's not." Vincent stood, finally allowing Cid to see his face in the flickering candle light, on the opposite side of the bed. "I love you, Cid." He watched his hands, tracing along the bare broad chest, softened by the stil lingering droplets, coming to rest on his shoulders. "You're my husband. I shouldn't hide anything from you." His eyes turned up to him, glistening with more than just Mako. "And, for that, I'm sorry."

Cid just smiled, lacing his fingers through the soft black hair, and pulled the head down to meet his lips. "You have nothing to apologize for. Hell, the mear fact that you've been able to hide it from me for so long is nothing short of a miracle."

Vincent laughed slightly, wrapping his arms around him. His head fell down on his lover's shoulder, basking in the warm scent rising from his skin, as they held each other close. Cid's hands ran along the gunner's back, his caloused fingers catching in the delicate fabric. "It's alright, Vince. It can't be a good thing for ya to remember. And I don't want to see you in pain again."

Vincent pulled back to examine his sincere eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes he'd grown to love and trust. He began to wonder how much this wonderful man knew. A contented smile crept onto Vincent's face, as he reached out to flip the lights on. He then turned his back to him, untying the sash, of his robe.

Cid stepped forward, grasping his shoulders, before the thin fabric could fall. "Vince… ya don't have ta."

He just smiled, moving the hands away. "Yes… I do."

Vincent dropped the back of the robe, stopping just above his waist. His head fell slightly, still ashamed, but resolved for him to know. Cid felt his heart stop. It was clear now how he was able to hide it. The marks were reduced to nothing more than thin raised lines against his pearl skin. The large scars trailing down the sides of his back, overpowered them in both color and size, from constant re-opening.

But it was really there. All of it was seeming all too real. Those screams and swears filled his mind, unable to allow him to think. Cid reached out, trying to reach the man that was in front of him, rather than the one he kept seeing. The reality that they really were one finally hitting him.

His hands came to rest on the thin shoulders, causing their owner to jump, glancing back at him. Vincent's breath caught in his throat, still so afraid of the pilot's reaction. Now that he knew he was claimed by another man.

Cid's lips, brushed against the sensative flesh, sending a chill through the gunman's body. He cut off the cold, wrapping his strong arms around Vincent's body, pulling him tightly back against him. Vincent's eyes closed, trying to fight back his shame.

"There's nothin there, Vince."

"What?" Vincent's eyes sprang open, turning to look at him. "What do you mean, 'there's nothing there?'"

Cid just smiled, pulling the robe back over his shoulders, tying it back. "Just what I said." He pulled him in to kiss him. "Absolutely nothing."

Vincent just stared at Cid, utterly confused. How could there be nothing there? He remembered so vividly the day it was done. "But… how?"

Cid's smile just broadened, holding the dumbfounded man tightly in his arms. He kissed the pale neck in front of him, where his head had landed on the shoulder. "Don't look at me like that. It makes me feel stupid."

"… Likewise."

"Hehe but you're cute when you look stupid."

Vincent laughed, clutching onto the broad shoulders in front of him. "I love you, Cid."

Cid pulled around, kissing him. "I'd sure as hell hope so."

"Cid."

Those blue eyes softened, now able to focus fully on his husband. "I love you too, Vince." Their lips met again, in a more passionate manner. Vincent moved back to sit on the bed, pulling the pilot between his legs, and over-top of him. Cid's hands untied the sash of Vincent's robe, again, his hands worming inside. Vincent sighed against the warm touch. "I was wondering why you tied it back."

"I really don't remember." His lips shifted to the tender air, burrying himself into the scent of the dark hairs. He felt a hand creeping along the back of his leg, reminding him of the towel he was wearing, as the hand pulled his leg to straddle a bare thigh. Cid flinched, feeling the hand move around, loosening the tuck of his censor, the fingers gently grasping his slightly swollen member.

Vincent moaned, his other hand messaging the head now nuzzling into his throat. "There you are."

Cid laughed, a bit frightened by his own blood flow. "Careful, Vince. I ain't been touched there in a while."

"Good." His fingers rubbed it expertly, making the flow worse. "Then I won't have to break anyone's hands."

"Yea, but." Cid pulled back, pulling the hand away, and pinned it against the bed. He stared down at the already lusting eyes, and smiled. "If you do that, then this may be over too fast."

"But, Cid."

He was cut short by those lips, a second time that night. "No. I want you to enjoy this for as long as you can." For every ounce of pain his gunman endured, Cid wanted him to have 100 years of pleasure.

Vincent's eyes glittered into a smile, even though his lips were pouting. "But I want to."

"Too bad." Cid slid down the slender body, placing kisses along the sensative flesh. His lips traced each scar, lapping out as if to clean the already healed wounds. Vincent moaned, his fingers curling into the sheets, as his body bucked up against the sensations. Cid always took pride in his ability to encite those sounds. All anyone ever saw of the stoic ex-Turk was silence. A distance that none of them seemed to believe even the pilot could cross. But he had discovered a long time ago how to handle Vincent. How to break him out of that quiet demeanor, and make the solomn body come alive in his arms. He truly reveled in it.

Cid pushed the rest of the satin robe aside, not even bothered by the towel sliding to the floor with his movements. It was bound to happen at some point.

As he stared down at the gunner's body, Cid had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Erm.. Vince?"

Vincent's cheeks heated, smiling slyly. "Yes, Cid."

"When did you start wearing underwear?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't."

"Uh, huh." He laughed slightly, amused. It was one thing if Vincent started wearing briefs or something. Seeing as how the reason for going commando was because they bunched up in the tight leather pants, but what Cid saw seemed a tad absurd on him. They were sky blue boxers, also a little big on him, with small bird like shapes spread out through it. A red plane sat in the front, with something pushing out from inside the center of a strategically placed propellor.

Cid just shook his head, looping his fingers under the waistband. "Well, they're not needed anymore."

Vincent closed his eyes, sighing as the pilot's fingernails scratched beneith them. "Indeed, they're not."

"Oh, Vince." It was amusing in a lot of ways. Maybe even ironic. If they could stand at any time to go for a while, without touching each other, both of their bodies seemed to revert back to a state of virginity. Evident with Vincent's already straining erection. Each touch, each lap of the tongue seemed to encite reactions that could only be triggered by two people that hadn't seen each other in years… even if it'd only been two days.

Vincent groaned, raking his hands through his hair, his hips girating into the warmth engulfing him between his thighs. "C-Cid." He pleaded, losing all traces of sanity.

"Hmm?' Cid hummed quizically, enjoying the sound of the groans of confused protest.

Vincent slammed his fists onto the bed, shaking it. "Cid, get up here."

The pilot released him, glancing up. "Why?" He lapped out at the hard soaken flesh.

Long thin fingers, twisted into the blond hairs, pulling the head up. "Because I said so, that's why." He nearly hissed. The gunman hated the sensation that hit him before he was about to cum in the pilot's mouth.

Cid smiled, knowing exactly what that frustration meant. He leaned forward kissing him. The gunman protested again, though not as hard, with the taste of himself on the blonde's lips. Instead he pulled back, sliding up to the head of the bed. Vincent lounged back, holding out his arms for his husband to come into them.

Cid gladly crawled over, wrapping his lips aroud Vincent's, one hand pushing up in between the gunner's spawled legs, while the other fished around inside of the bedside drawer. His fingers swirled around the hardened member, soon moving lower to push inside.

Vincent moaned with exstacy at the familiar touch, exploring him. His legs began to numb, fingers curling along the pilot's shoulder blades. He crooned his lover's name, feeling a tad love drunk.

The fingers came out, allowing Cid to hold Vincent tightly in his arms, as he started to push in. He kissed the ex-Turk, never feeling he could ever get enough of his lover's taste. "I love you, Vincent."

xXx

They spent a good portion of the night tangled in each others arms. Not sleeping, but just holding each other. Savoring the feel of their bare skin pressed together. A golden light began to wash over them as the sun rose through their window. Vincent sighed, feeling his pilot beginning to doze. He pushed himself up, kissing Cid to wake him back up.

It was now his turn to groan in protest. "Vince, I'm tired."

"I know." He smiled, cocking his head innocently to the side, allowing the long ebony hair to fall over his shoulder. "But I want to ask you something."

"Ugh. Can't it wait?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't know."

Cid let out another sigh, that seemed to turn his lips into a motor boat. "Fine, what is it?"

The crimson eyes narrowed slightly, completely contradicting the sweet smile on the lips below. "How did you know what it said?"

Cid's face reddened slightly, his eyes darting a bit. "What what said?"

"… My back."

Shit… "erm."

--

AN: *Vincent would never allow Cid to see him cry. He hated himself for even thinking about crying... but every time he saw the scars... the marks on his back that made him... he couldn't help it. All those years of hell and torture. He felt his mind pulling back to those horrific nights... far away from the warmth of Cid's arms. * quote made by gabrielsangel on DA... it was so beautiful, that i had to share it with others

uh oh, Cid's in trouble lol... i'd have him come up with some cleaver lie, but i figured it'd be more fun to leave to some interpretation. i know ima get some flaming for having them fight, but i had to get Cid in a towel somehow =D