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The first time Cid woke up surrounded by hair and heat and the smell of dog, he wasn’t really all that surprised. He knew he had passed out during a battle, and he remembered Galian having been released at some point. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but…well, it was kind of nice? Warm, for sure, even if Galian didn’t smell like the bathing Vincent did had any impact on his scent.
The second time was also after a battle, this time because Cid had hauled the great beast into the nearby river and had insisted on scrubbing him down, cleaning scraps and splatters of unspeakable fluids from his thick fur. Galian resisted at first, then submitted to Cid’s determined scrubbing with a low chuff. Afterwards, he shook himself off and flopped in the grass on the bank, sunning himself. Cid sighed heavily and settled down beside him, and he might have….dozed off. He was right in the same place when he woke, tucked into the heavy curve of Galian’s body. Honestly, he was more concerned about the fact that Vincent wasn’t back in control yet, but things settled back to normal quickly enough afterwards.
The third time, however, was after the world had tried to come to an end a couple of times. Cid’s life had become a nearly endless cycle of planning and building and trialing and testing and meetings meetings meetings, even when he was safely away from civilized society at his hangars outside Rocket Town. He criss-crossed the Planet for Reeve and Rufus and even, occasionally, the Emperor of Wutai, carrying plans and equipment or traveling to consult on myriad projects. Vincent spent time at his hangar when he wasn’t traveling too, hiding away from the noise and crowds and memories in the cities.
Cid had dozed off on his couch with Vincent at the other side of it, reading something from Cid’s ever-growing TBR pile. A chill winter wind howled around the hangar, and Cid had been busy most of the day, so he couldn’t really be blamed for falling asleep. When he woke, though, he was on the floor, tucked into a massive furry body with a huge head in his lap.
He got a hand free to paw at his face, trying to scrub himself more awake, then blinked down at himself. The head in his lap had thick purple fur, enormous horns, and was making sleepy whuffling noises against his left knee. The rest of Galian was wrapped around him, a big, warm backrest, rear paws stretched out across the floor with claws on full display. Cid sat there for a minute, staring at those claws and wondering what had just happened.
“….Vince?” he ventured.
Galian grumbled, low and rumbling in his chest.
“….Galian?” Cid tried next.
“Bfft?” The big head shifted in his lap but didn’t lift…leaving Cid fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to get up until Galian decided to move.
“Any reason we’re on the floor, big guy?” Cid asked, hesitantly burying his fingers in Galian’s fur and scritching around one ear. “I know I wasn’t down here when I dozed off.”
Galian rumbled comfortably and raised his head, butting into Cid’s face. Cid sputtered, getting fur in his mouth.
“Come on, what’s the deal, furball?”
“Bfffttt.” A big pink tongue proceeded to flick out and sweep up Cid’s face…once, twice, and then Cid was planting his hands on Galian’s muzzle and trying to push him away.
“Fuck, that’s enough, no more kisses!”
Galian heaved a sigh and rolled over on his back, pulling Cid along with a paw. Cid squawked and went over backwards, sprawling against his furry side.
“Excuse me?” he demanded, and received a contented rumbling noise in the ear for his trouble. Out of ideas, he relaxed into Galian’s furry side and settled in for further napping…it was all he could do anyway.
If Galian-naps became a semi-regular event in Cid’s life after that, who was to know? Only Vincent, who either didn’t realize or didn’t object. Cid wasn’t sure how he was releasing the enormous creature without working up a Limit Break, but he also didn’t want to know.
——————————
In the spring, Cid caught a rotten cold. Vincent had had a few things to say to him about pushing himself too hard on engineering projects and staying out in the spring rains for too long, but he also made soup and chased Cid off to rest. Cid had gone willingly enough, crawling under a blanket on his couch and falling asleep without argument.
Cid woke when he was….moving. Moving? He made a startled noise that quickly became a string of coughs, and found a truly massive hand pushing him upright so he could breathe easier.
“Nnkk..kkhheh! F-fuck….goddamn…”
“Better?” a rough voice asked.
Cid froze. He recognized the voice, though he had rarely heard more than a bare handful of words spoken with it…and none of those words were anything even remotely like ‘better’. They were all battle related, all violent or angry or both. This was…different. Rough and deep and uncertain, quieter than he’d ever known it, though still muffed behind his muzzle. Already fairly certain what he was going to see, Cid turned to the side to see who was holding him.
Death Gigas looked down at him, red eyes like embers in his craggy face. His muzzle remained on, though Cid wasn’t sure why he thought it wouldn’t have been. He didn’t even know if it came off.
“Uh….hi?” Cid croaked.
“Better?” Death Gigas repeated. He resettled Cid against his chest, cradled in one massive arm like a child, and resumed stumping across the hangar space where Cid had, evidently, fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure when he’d gotten out there, or why, but clearly it had been the wrong choice.
“Uh….coughin’s eased up?” he ventured. “Thanks?”
Gigas nodded. When they reached the door into Cid’s attached quarters, it took the Limit Break a long few moments to get it open, pawing at the door with one massive hand before he got the lock disengaged and hooked a finger into the handle to pull it open. It took even longer for him to carefully shoulder his way sideways through the door, head bent down over Cid so close that the metal of his muzzle pressed against Cid’s cheek for a moment.
It was surprisingly warm. Cid wasn’t sure why he’d assumed it would be cold…Gigas’ face was pressed against it, it probably stayed at more or less blood heat. Right?
God, he didn’t have the spare braincells to think about this right now.
Death Gigas sidled awkwardly around things in Cid’s living space, working his way to the bedroom despite Cid knowing he had never been there before. Maybe that was something that carried over from Vincent? How had Vincent gotten worked up enough for a second level Limit Break anyway? Cid didn’t sense anything wrong other than the obvious fact that was he was being carried into his bedroom by a giant, murderous sentient Limit Break.
“Sleep,” Gigas rumbled, settling Cid on the bed. “Heal.”
Cid kicked his house shoes off, wiggled over to his favorite pillow, and considered the Limit Break at the side of the bed. “If you were plannin’ on staying, you……can sit on the floor? I don’t think this bed frame can handle anythin’ your size- it barely supports Galian an’ it’s been makin’ some bad noises the last couple of times he’s come around.”
“I guard,” Gigas informed him, sitting down in front of the door. “You rest.”
“I…oooookay?”
“Okay,” Gigas agreed, and tucked his limbs together in a remarkably comfortable looking bundle against the wall….despite the boots and massive metal wristbands.
Naptime with Death Gigas happened several more times before Cid recovered, and every time it did, Cid found himself being carried from wherever he’d fallen asleep and back to his bedroom, laid on the bed with incredible delicacy, and then guarded. Gigas- and Vincent- were always gone when he woke.
————————
Summer was Cid’s busy season. Peak construction time in most of the areas he was working with, long days and generally mild nights. He spent a significant amount of time scrambling up scaffolding and crawling over aircraft, inspecting, repairing and testing. When he wasn’t doing that, he was hopping from one locale to the next with a hold full of supplies.
He got his rest whenever and wherever he had the time to, often in a hammock hanging in his secondary hold, which was smaller and less likely to be packed with gear on most of his trips, though he had also been known to secure it beneath the wing of his bird or between trees or struts around some of the airfields he visited.
On a particularly warm afternoon outside Midgar, Cid had set up beneath the Shera’s wing with a manual to read and promptly dozed off. The faint breeze was coming off the slowly healing Wastes, smelling of dust and creosote bushes, and it was the most quiet he had been able to enjoy in days.
He woke to find the hammock rocking in an almost mechanically steady way, and the pressure of a hand against his hip to maintain the rocking. Rather than ask who or what had joined him, he sat up a little bit and peered over the side of the hammock.
Hellmasker sat crosslegged in the gravel beneath the wing with Cid, chainsaw and gloves lying beside him. Honestly Cid hadn’t even known the gloves came off, but there they were, alongside the chainsaw that didn’t look half as intimidating when it wasn’t running. In fact, it wasn’t all that different from the one Cid used when he was going for firewood, albeit without any sort of branding. He still wore the mask…maybe that was the bit that didn’t come off.
“Th’ fuck?” Cid managed.
“Sleep,” Hellmasker hissed. “You need rest.” His voice was lighter than Death Gigas’, smoother and almost more human, though his mask distorted it somewhat. Might’ve been a nice voice, on a regular, everyday sort of person. It was still kind of a nice voice coming from Hellmasker, though very much out of place coming from his whole….thing.
“I’m getting rest,”Cid objected. “I’m fine!”
Hellmasker’s other hand, the one not still swinging the hammock, swung up. Cid ducked, and a water bottle landed in his lap. Another swing, another toss, and a box lunch from the airstrips FBO joined it. On the third toss, Cid actually dared to reach up and catch, and got a bottle of cold tea for his efforts.
“Feed,” Hellmasker commanded. “Drink. Recover your strength.”
“…..dude, I am fine,” Cid protested, cracking the tea open and sipping. It was still nice and cold, and only just barely sweetened, just the wya he liked. When he checked out the box lunch, he found a sandwich thick with goodies, kettle chips, and an actual, honest-to-goodness chocolate chip cookie the size of a saucer. “…but this is real nice, bud. Thanks.”
“Welcome,” Hellmasker said, and continued to rock the hammock. Cid ate his lunch, finished the tea, and fell back to sleep without ever leaving it. When he woke, late in the afternoon, Hellmasker was gone and Vincent, if he’d even been there, was nowhere to be found.
———————
What with the Galian Beast naps at home and the Hellmasker hammock naps and the occasional appearances of Death Gigas, Cid really shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked into his hangar in early autumn to find Chaos lounging on his workbench.
Vincent’s fourth and final Limit Break was and always had been a sight to behold in ways that the other three just weren’t. The others were big and powerful and varying flavors of scary in a fight. Chaos was tall and slim, almost delicate, the markings on his inhumanly pale skin making him look almost like a porcelain doll. His twisted red crown and enormous wings, combined with the skin-tight black leather catsuit, had an effect that was somewhere between pants-shittingly terrifying and unfairly hot. His burning golden eyes pushed things mostly into the hot range for Cid, though he was never going to say so, as he didn’t actually have a death wish.
“Wasn’t expectin’ guests,” Cid said, voice as level as he could manage as he hung his windbreaker up by the door and headed for the work bench. “You’re sittin’ on my socket wrenches.”
“I am not, in fact sitting on socket wrenches.” Chaos’ voice was inhumanly silky, something you could almost pluck from the air and wrap around you. “They have been removed.”
“To where? I need those.”
“For what?”
“For working?”
“What on?”
Cid gestured wordlessly to the puddle jumper disassembled all over that corner of the hangar floor and raised an eyebrow.
“It will wait. I have a task for you, Highwind.”
“A task.”
“That is what I said, is it not?”
Cid propped his fists on his hips and gave Chaos his best ‘are you fuckin’ kidding me’ look. In response, the corners of Chaos’ mouth turned up in a terribly amused little smirk.
“You don’t intimidate me, Highwind. I have a task for you, and you will fulfill it.”
“Or what?”
“Or you stand very little chance of ever enjoying sexual satisfaction with a partner again.”
Cid sputtered, shocked. “Enjoying- b- what the fuck?”
Chaos lazily inspected the claws of his gauntlet, then looked at Cid over them, golden eyes glittering with obvious amusement.
“You will go to a particular place at a specific time, Highwind, and you will take with you the things I tell you to. Is that clear?”
“As mud, Sunshine. What the fuck are you even up to?”
“About two hundred five centimeters. Why?”
“…..was that a joke?”
Chaos’ smile this time was all teeth…and very sharp ones at that. Cid decided not to push his luck any further.
“When is this supposed t’ be takin’ place, then? I’ve got shit to do.”
“Tomorrow night. Sit down, and I will tell you what you will do.”
The following evening, Cid found himself hiking out to a hilltop a little ways away from his hangar before dawn, armed with a duffle bag and a thick sweater to protect him from the chill. As the last vestiges of daylight faded from the western horizon, he put on a headlamp and got to work preparing the site. As Chaos had said, there was a bit of a depression in the top of this hill where a tree had once stood, then fallen in a windstorm, tearing clods of soil up as it fell and tumbled downhill. Cid remembered that storm, and the mess this part of the hill had been back then, but it had been six or seven years now. Rain and snow and time had settled the hole where the tree had been into a smooth bowl and filled it with grass and wildflowers, though it was just grass at this time of year, with a scattering of stems bearing seedpods. Cid laid a picnic blanket out on this grass, then added a couple of regular blankets on top. He unpacked the rest of the bag, laid things out, and settled down to wait.
Around midnight, Chaos soared in from the plains, circling once before dropping down beside Cid on nearly silent wings.
Cid, for his part, jumped but didn’t scream.
“What the fuck, Chaos?” he demanded. “Gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack!”
“Do not be so dramatic. Your heart is in good condition, as are the rest of your organs….despite your valiant attempts to clog your lungs with tar.”
“I quit!” Cid objected. “I quit and I have stayed quit!”
“And for that I am thankful,” Chaos hummed pleasantly.
“…..why?”
“For reasons that I will be keeping to myself for the time being. Let me see your work, Highwind.”
“Feel like ‘m gettin’ graded on it,” Cid grumbled, stepping back so Chaos could pick his way around the blanket nest and inspect everything.
“That would be because you are.”
“….is this a test?”
Chaos turned back to him, and Cid found himself pinned by glowing eyes and that dangerously sharp grin again.
“Whatever makes you say that?”
“Right. Shutting up now.”
Chaos went around the area a couple of times before making a satisfied little noise and turning back to Cid.
“It will do,” he declared. “Which is fortunate, as your guest is ready.”
“Who, exactly, is this mystery guest, and why in the name of Ramuh’s saggy left nut are you setting them up on a date with me? Where even are they?”
“You’ll see,” Chaos said smugly, and vanished. In his place, Vincent dropped, crosslegged and looking a little shellshocked, onto the picnic blanket. Cid goggled at him for a moment, mouth working but words not coming out.
“…..Vince?” he managed at last.
Vincent blinked at him. While nowhere near as luminous as Chaos’, his eyes still glowed softly in the darkness, gleaming like rubies in the fine planes of his face.
“….Cid?”
“Y-yeah, uh…..you alright?”
Vincent looked around himself, then nodded slowly.
“Did you…um….did you consent to this?”
“That would depend on what ‘this’ is,” Vincent said quietly. “Where are we?”
“Hill outside RocketTown,” Cid supplied. “Well….quite a ways out, we’re near my place. Iiiii was…prepping for a…date?”
“A date.”
“Yes.”
“With me.”
“Well I din’t know it was you, Chaos wouldn’t say.”
“A blind date, then.”
“Yeah.”
“In the dark. At…what is it, midnight or thereabouts?”
“…yeah.”
Vincent fixed him with a piercing look, and if it weren’t for the curl at one corner of his mouth, Cid would have been somewhat concerned for his health. As it was, that little quirk of amusement sent a little thrill skittering down his spine- one did not receive a smile from Vincent Valentine every day. It was an event. A treasure to be savored.
“You really are the most extraordinarily trusting man sometimes, Chief.”
Cid muttered at him and came over to settle on the blanket beside him with a sigh. “Look, I walked into the hangar and your creepy li’l buddy was lying on my tool bench. The whole thing started out weird and just got weirder.”
“Did you even stop to think why he might be manipulating you?”
“Not really, no. Kinda busy with the whole ‘damn that’s a lot of teeth and I shouldn’t be finding that attractive.”
“You find Chaos attractive.”
“Of course I do, he looks like you!”
Cid abruptly shut his mouth. Vincent stared at him. Cid stared back. A particular sort of silence settled over the little hollow at the top of the hill.
After a moment that stretched out forever, Vincent cleared his throat quietly. Cid watched his tongue flicker out over his lips in what almost certainly had to be a nervous gesture.
“You find me attractive.”
Cid made a strangled sort of sound, thick with disbelief, and gestured wordlessly at Vincent. Vincent blinked at him.
“You find me attractive and you never said anything.”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Cid!”
Cid shrugged a little helplessly and gestured at Vincent again. “You’re….you.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Uh…..gorgeous, mysterious, sexy as hell, entirely capable of snapping my neck with your thighs and entirely unapproachable? Plus still carrying a torch for your dead lover?”
“Are you telling me that you haven’t said anything about this attraction because you think I’m still in love with Lucrecia?”
“Yes!”
Cid wasn’t expecting to get tackled. Not that he ever expected it, not really, but he really wasn’t expecting it from Vincent, who had the most standoffish, don’t touch me sort of personality and fighting style Cid had ever seen. But there he was, flat on his back in the grass with a whole lot of ex-Turk gunman sitting on him, hands planted to either side of his head and eyes glimmering like magic in the shadows beneath his hair.
“I am not still in love with her,” Vincent said softly, voice soft and silky on Cid’s ears. “Those feelings faded as the wounds she gave me healed. Nothing remains of them but my Limit Breaks, now.”
“Y-yeah?” Cid squeaked. “So….”
Vincent made a low growling sound, a softer version of the same sound Cid had heard out of all of his Limit Breaks. Then he lowered his head and kissed Cid. It wasn’t sweet or gentle or hesitant as a first kiss was generally expected to be- there were teeth involved. Cid got himself bitten several times, albeit lightly, and summarily flattened into the grass with all of Vincent’s weight leaning down onto his chest. After a shocked minute, he wrapped his arms around the lean body over him and pulled Vincent a tiny bit closer. When Vincent broke from the kiss for a moment, Cid buried his face in the man’s neck and inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of gun oil and leather over the warmer scent that was all Vincent’s. Vincent chuckled and rolled onto his side, pulling Cid along with him.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Chief,” he said softly. “But I didn’t think the wait was ever going to end.”
“Gimme some credit,” Cid complained, nuzzling some more. “I didn’t think you even liked men.”
“I prefer men,. Lucrecia was…an outlier.”
“Hmh. Din’t know that.”
“Most of the world thinks you are straight too.”
“Most of the world is stupid. None of their business either way, tho.”
“No…I suppose it isn’t.”
“Vince?”
“Mmm?”
“Why are we up here in the middle of the night anyway?”
“Mmm….meteor shower tonight.”
“Yeah? You wanna watch?”
“I think I do, yes.”
“I’ve got mulled wine. Chaos said to bring cocoa, but that didn’t feel like a romantic date drink.”
“….you brought mulled wine up into the middle of nowhere for me.”
“Well I brought it for Chaos’ mystery date, but….yeah.”
Vincent hummed, amused. “I suppose they were right, then. You are suitable.”
“Who?”
“Mmmmmmmnobody. You said you had wine?”
Cid decided it was just better not to ask.