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The WRO usually kept Vincent busy. With the rise of Weiss, he was even busier. Busy being hunted for his heart. Or, at least, what was left of it. Because of this the whole WRO was busy.
Cid was transport, Reeve was organizing against Weiss, Shalua was making sure Vincent was healthy, and Vincent himself was trying to stay alive. If the protomateria was taken from him, his body would start to destroy itself.
Cid worried about that more than he cared to admit. He’d proposed to Vincent barely a month prior to all of this happening. The love of his life was being hunted like game. Vincent staying alive so they could marry was all that mattered to him.
A soft knock sounded on the side of the Captain’s deck. It was Reeve, come to talk to Cid about whatever.
“Uh, have you seen that Vincent has a ring now?” Reeve asked sheepishly. He leaned one arm on the railing, a failed attempt at being casual.
The pilot had a physical reaction to that question. By no means had he or Vincent told anyone. Their friends would learn when they got the wedding invitations. But, Cid had always had his suspicions about Reeve. He would play along for now. “Mhm. Whoever gets to sleep next to him every night is lucky.”
“Really lucky,” Reeve sighed. “I wish I’d actually asked him out before he was taken for good.”
Cid had to pause. “You were gonna ask him out? Huh, so was I.”
“I didn’t think you swung that way,” Reeve said, surprised “You don’t look like a guy who would.”
“I didn’t think I did either,” Cid replied. “Turns out when you have a guy who could kill you in your lap you learn a thing or two about yourself.”
“You and Vincent…?” Reeve inquired. He didn’t want to finish the sentence, he’d always been a very clean man and didn’t want to ruin that reputation.
“It never turned into anything,” Cid said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The gods work in mysterious ways.”
Reeve nodded in agreement. “I’d drink to that.”
Cid laughed. “You really don’t have anyone else on your roster? I’ve got quite a few girls back in my hometown who’d love to be in my bed.”
That was a lie. Cid had never really had any luck with dating.
“Well, I asked Shalua out, but she’s a lesbian. And so is Shera. I’m pretty sure every single one of my employees likes girls. Except for you and Vincent, obviously,” Reeve explained.
“Can’t hurt to go to a bar and find a good lookin’ gal,” Cid suggested.
“I think Tifa might kill me if I did that at the Seventh Heaven,” Reeve grimaced. He thought for a second, then stood up straight. “Maybe we could go get drinks sometime?”
Cid shook his head. “I’m engaged.”
It was funny to watch the gears start turning in Reeve’s head. Vincent was engaged. Cid was engaged. They lived together, even slept in the same bed— which Reeve had witnessed through Cait Sith more than once. There was no guaranteeing when you wanted one that you wouldn’t also get the other. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”
“Just don’t hit on my fiance again,” Cid grumbled. Reeve left quickly. One could watch Cid’s growing irritation start radiating off of him.
Cid’s eyes trained on the windows in front of him. He took a moment to collect himself.
The pilot had never really been that possessive over Vincent. Usually it was the other way around. Chaos and Hellmaster got particularly upset when someone hit on Cid.
Cid guessed it was just because he had a ring on his finger now.
“Dearest,” Vincent called from down the short staircase. Cid's anger immediately subsided. He reached a hand out for Vincent to come to him.
The gunman’s gloved hand intertwined with Cid’s. He came to stand close to the other man. “Is something wrong?”
“Reeve said he was gonna ask you out,” Cid grumbled.
Vincent tilted his head to the side. “Before or after I got engaged?”
“Before, but I don't think he realized we were serious,” Cid huffed.
For simplicity’s sake, they were serious. Cid and Vincent lived together, slept together, and acted like a couple would. The only thing they’d never done was refer to each other as “boyfriends.” Neither liked the way that word sounded. When asked, Vincent would call Cid his partner. Or husband. Whichever he felt like.
Cid’s hand was pulled up to Vincent’s lips. “I’m sure he meant no harm.”
The pilot mumbled something under his breath. Once he was done with his temper tantrum, he called over another worker to take the wheel. When he was free he started to drag Vincent back to his room.
“I have to be somewhere very soon, dearest,” Vincent informed.
“I ain’t looking for that. All I want is to kiss you,” Cid replied. He was more upset than he thought he was going to be.
Vincent went along with him. He’d kiss Cid down into the bed, get him off, then be on his way.
As soon as the door was closed, Cid’s lips were against Vincent’s. He locked the door behind him for safety. The gunman pushed him black on the bed, making him sit.
“Where’re you goin’?” Cid asked as Vincent walked to his nightstand.
“To find a hair tie," Vincent replied. He took the one from next to his lamp and put his hair in a bun.
CId watched as Vincent knelt between his legs. He certainly wasn’t expecting anything like this. “You don’t have to.”
Vincent pulled Cid’s pants open while he spoke. “Having to and wanting to are different things.”
“You still don’t, fuck,” CId groaned as Vincent groped him through his boxers.
Vincent’s other hand pushed Cid’s shirt up. He kissed the other’s stomach as he continued to undress his lower half. “You’re going to get pent up. I’d rather give you head now than have my hips bruised later.”
Cid was already hard. Vincent’s forwardness had always turned him on. He laid back, propping himself up on his elbows. “I won’t say no to that.” A shiver went through the pilot as Vincent licked up his length. One of his hands came to rest on the top of the other’s head. “Fuck, Vince.”
“We can do that later,” Vincent murmured. He then sunk his head down on CId.
Head was the one thing Vincent offered to do for Cid. He was excellent at it. No girl Cid had ever gotten in his bed did as well as Vincent.
CId’s hips bucked slightly. His head fell back onto the bed. Vincent continued to move, making the Pilot in his mouth groan.
“Vince, I’m,” Cid cut himself off with a breathy whine. His hips bucked again.
Vincent pulled off CId’s dick and started to climb on top of him. “You make very pretty sounds.”
“Bastard,” Cid managed. “I was about to cum.”
The gunman glanced over to the clock on the nightstand. “I think we still have time.”