Author: The Magic Rat
Warnings: Rough but consensual sex, potty-mouth, and mpreg. Because you’re totally shocked I write mpreg, I can tell.
Word Count: 2974
Website – Ex Libris: www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/…
Live Journal: delaese.livejournal.com/profil…
Disclaimer: All Final Fantasy Seven characters, places and situations are the property of Square Soft/Square Enix and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.
Summary: Cid and Vincent start their life together.
Author’s notes: Birthday ficlet for Herradurra1. Happy birthday!
Fits in with my Rabid Tiger AU, and is sort of a lead-in to ‘Misadventures in Babysitting’.
Pt I: magicrat.deviantart.com/galler…
Pt II: magicrat.deviantart.com/galler…
Cid had brought him to the little yellow house, and watched his lover inspect the proposed home to see if it was deemed suitable. Vincent could still see him lurking in the doorway, cigarette in his teeth, hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans. The sunlight shone down on his shoulders, and he looked like the hot bad boy anti-hero of a summer romance movie.
Damn that was a fine-looking man.
The house was tiny, dark, worn, and in sore need of repair. The walls had once been a very pale pink and yellow; someone’s attempt to make the minute little shoebox more bright and cheerful. Tell-tale marks on the wall spoke of shelves, now removed, and faint scratches on the wall told of the presence of a child. Vincent peered at the marks, and smiled as he saw large, blocky letters above one stating; AIDEN IS FIVE TODAY AND THIS BIG!
Beside the child’s writing was a neater, more firm adult hand – May12, 1949. Wherever Aiden was in the world now, he was five years and five months older than Vincent.
“How’s the house?” Cid asked.
“Tiny,” said Vincent, slowly prowling it. “There are exactly two rooms, one for cooking and eating, and one for sleeping.”
Cid looked guilty and uncomfortable. “It’s the best I can do after buying the land for the hangar.”
Yes, the hangar. That was important. They would need an income. Vincent could nap away the years in a box, but Cid could not. And Cid was very much a big part of his life right now.
“So… what are we supposed to use for a bathroom?”
“Oh! Oh you’re gonna love this, babe.”
Grinning, Cid crossed the worn linoleum floor to something Vincent hadn’t realized was a door. It looked more like a mismatched panel in the wall. Cid pulled it open, then stood back, watching as Vincent moved past him into the strange little room behind the house.
It was the bathroom that sold Vincent on the tiny house. It had four walls of rough-hewn wood, and a floor of moss. The ceiling was the intertwining leaves and branches of young trees, and the tub was made of cut stone sunk into the ground, more of a natural basin than a tub. The sink was carved of some sort of exceedingly hard wood, set onto the wall to look like a growth on the rough lumber. There was one tap for hot water, but the cold water trickled in by itself from some unseen spring The toilet was… well… a toilet, but that was fine. It was hardly noticed amidst everything else. It was like a little secret grove, where he could soak in peace.
“What do you think?” asked Cid.
Vincent slowly looked around the bathroom, pausing as a tiny bird fluttered down from the branches to bathe in the sink. Vincent felt himself smile as the wee creature splashed.
“I could live here.”
So they moved in together. It was a bit odd and unnerving. Neither of them had been in a relationship in a long time, and this was their first same-sex relationship. Cid was still having a hard time saying “boyfriend”, while Vincent found it was just very strange having another human being in his space. Cid’s biggest adjustment was dealing with Vincent’s innumerable quirks, and teaching himself that just because Vincent wanted to be alone, that did not mean anything was wrong. He was a solitary person, and had been even before Hojo shot him. Cid long suspected the main reason Lucrecia picked Hojo over Vincent was because Vincent was basically a nervous individual, and she would have to spend too much time thinking about his
needs, instead of living in whatever little fantasy land she had created for herself.
But despite the issues, they were happy; stupidly happy, and he remembered their first night together in their little yellow house. He remembered settling into the deep soft bed, pressing close to Cid, and relaxing into the powerful embrace. Sex was still clumsy and new, but that just made it all the more fun as Cid moved on top of him, pushing slowly into him. Vincent loved the feel of the strong body on top of his own, loved wrapping his arms around Cid, closing his eyes, and wondering how anything could be this good.
It seemed all they ever did was make love, and Vincent enjoyed it on a level he could not explain to Cid. He knew Cid worried that Vincent could not seem to climax, but for Vincent an orgasm wasn’t what this was about; it was about feeling safe and warm. It was about this incredible feeling of having someone who was a friend as well as a lover. And it was about that special feeling of knowing Cid in a way no one else did. Not just sexually, but as a person, and understanding how incredibly soft and caring the big, nicotine-stained, foul-mouthed, abrasive pilot was. To the rest of the world he was sandpaper and salt; to Vincent he was healing balm and warmth. Somehow… Cid truly understood how damaged Vincent was.
They lay together in the bed, in the dark. There was no electricity in the house. Cid was going to put some in, as well as get the place painted and cleaned up. But for now there was darkness and silence, and the feeling of a big body on top of his own that he loved.
“I took a poll,” said Cid. “You and I have sex more often than all of our friends combined.”
“I really needed to know that,” said Vincent dryly.
“Ah they’re just jealous,” he said dismissively. “Let’s get drunk and do kinky things to each other.”
Life was good. Life was peaceful. Vincent painted the interior of the house and did his best to make the place look like a home instead of where Cid piled his engine parts. But he never painted over the door frame of the bedroom. He never had the heart to cover up the joyful scribble by a little boy named Aiden, now in his late fifties, declaring how big he was on his fifth birthday.
Things fell into a peaceful routine. Vincent tended to the house, happy to stay locked away in peaceful solitude. Sometimes Cloud or Reno came to look in on him, and occasionally gently cajole him out of the house. Few of their neighbours even knew Vincent existed, and the only member of Cid’s crew who did was a man named Carter. He had come by one day to drop off some paperwork. Not realizing Cid had a roommate, he simply breezed into the tiny house, and stopped dead as he saw something tall and willowy lurking in the shadows.
“Hi,” said Carter. “You…uh… live here?”
Vincent nodded again.
“He never mentioned you.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Vincent. Carter’s jaw dropped at the sound of Vincent’s voice.
“You’re a man! I mean… of course you’re a man, you’re just… I mean…. Wow you’re so pretty.”
Vincent didn’t want this man in his house. It was his private place. He was becoming nervous and flustered with the way Carter was reacting to him, and shifted like a wild horse, ready to either kick or bolt. Carter backed up a little, sensing Vincent was not pleased to make his acquaintance.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’ll go. But… wow. You’re beautiful. No wonder Cid wants to keep you all to himself.”
Carter left, but that wasn’t the last time Vincent saw him. It seemed from that day forth, Carter showed up every morning at 11 am on some pretense or other, and usually armed with some sort of small gift; chocolates, fresh-caught fish, pastries… always something, but nothing too big, and always with the excuse that Cid asked him to pop in and make certain Vincent was all right. Then one evening Cid came home in a decidedly foul mood, announcing that if Carter didn’t start doing his job and getting his work done, he was going to can his fat ass.
“Perhaps if you stopped sending him over here every morning to look in on me, he’d work faster,” said Vincent.
Cid had been in the process of putting on a kettle for tea, but Vincent’s words brought him to a halt. He stared at his lover, blue eyes blinking in confusion.
“Well he comes by here every morning at 11 saying you wanted him to…”
Cid put the kettle down on the stove, snatched up his jacket and departed. He was home five hours later, carrying a large paper sack, his knuckles split and bleeding, and a note from the police in his pocket informing him that he was no longer allowed to go anywhere near Carter, and that Carter was to stay out of Cid’s house. Cid said nothing about the blood or the restraining order. He simply put the sack on the counter and proceeded to pull out the makings of his famous spicy fish chowder.
“So the clams put up a fight I see,” said Vincent.
“Son of a bitch has a fuck of a lot of nerve trolling for new fish in MY HOUSE! And YOU! Ya silly brat, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because he said all the gifts and things were from you. And if I had the first idea how to tell what someone felt towards me in the first place I wouldn’t have ended up in a casket under Shinra Mansion.”
“Well he had some fucking nerve! I hire him, give him a job, help him out, and he was trying to take you from me!”
“I wouldn’t have gone with him,” said Vincent.
“DAMN STRAIGHT YOU WOULDN’T HAVE! YOU’RE MINE! HE CAN’T FUCKING HAVE YOU!”
Vincent sighed. “I’ll be back when you’re calm.”
Vincent rose from the chair where he had been seated, and felt his arm grabbed. Seconds later he was being held against a large chest, and feeling Cid shake with emotion. Clearly Vincent had underestimated how deeply Cid had been affected by this. Closing his eyes, he sank against Cid, resting the side of his face against Cid’s chest.
“I wouldn’t have gone with him. I am too old to play games with inept little boys. I much prefer men.”
Vincent remembered noting to himself that making Cid jealous once in a while could be fun. They made chowder, drank far too much, and fell into bed for inept but incredible sex. Except for the third time. Something happened there. Something strange. Cid was drunk and trying to get inside of him. Vincent had been laughing, too drunk to help his lover find his mark. Then Cid bit onto his shoulder and shoved hard, and Vincent was frozen in place with blinding agony. Cid was in him all right, but this didn’t feel the way it was supposed to. This hurt. It hurt like hell. Vincent didn’t remember why he didn’t say
something, and he sure as hell didn’t remember why he just drew his legs up higher and invited Cid in deeper. He didn’t want
Cid in any deeper, this already hurt enough as it was. He could hear Chaos in his mind, speaking softly to him, gently assuring him, trying to calm him, keeping him passive even though every instinct in his body told him to make the pain stop. But it was important to the female demon that inhabited his body. She would look after him. He would be okay.
Just what the fuck was happening to him? Why was he putting up with this? It HURT, dammit! All he had to do was whisper one word to Cid and it would stop, but Chaos was begging him not to. He finally told her that if she wanted this so damned badly then she
could take over, he wasn’t into pain. So she did, in spirit if not in body. She sent Vincent someplace to dream a while, leaving Vincent’s body with Cid. In retrospect, Vincent realized what she had wanted, and that he should never have let her take over, but he already knew he was, as Tseng had once called him, the Dark Lord of Bad Decisions.
Cid suspected something was odd when Vincent spent the rest of the night trying to get Cid inside of him as many times as possible, but Cid was hardly one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Morning found them both sore, except Vincent was also covered in blood and nearly crippled with pain. Vincent wasn’t sure how he got Cid to go to work that day, because it was not in Cid’s nature to leave his blood-covered husband alone, but Vincent somehow managed to convince him this was perfectly natural for a creature like himself. Cid must have believed him because he left. Vincent hid in the bath and cried for hours, knowing on a very visceral level that, once again, his life had just taken a very strange and profound turn.
He got himself under control, took some pain killers, and washed the bedding. By the time Cid came home from work, it was as if the previous evening had never happened, other than Vincent was clearly too damned sore to do much more than lie curled up in bed. Cid lay down beside him, and drew him close.
“What the hell did I do to you?”
Vincent smiled impishly. “I dunno but it was fantastic.”
“Yeah right. You want anything?”
“Baked bunny on a plate and honeysuckle tea.”
Cid kissed him. “Your wish is my command. Let’s just hope the butcher shop is still open.”
Cid got up and departed, leaving Vincent alone in peace. Vincent’s eyes strayed to the doorframe, and even in the muted light, he could still faintly make something out on the dulled paint.
AIDEN IS FIVE TODAY AND THIS BIG!
Vincent nestled down into the bedding and closed his eyes, drifting into sleep. He was going to need his rest.
Vincent opened his eyes. He did not feel well. He felt frail, and drained, unable to defend himself from so much as a mosquito. He struggled weakly, disoriented, and was suddenly aware of someone touching his face. He turned his head, and was relieved to see Cid lying beside him.
"Hey," said Cid. He stroked back the black hair. "Didn't think I'd leave you now, did you?"
"I feel awful," said Vincent, pressing close, wanting to be held.
"Yeah well you've had a pretty hard day."
"How's baby number two?"
"He's fine. He's perfect. He's a Valentine. You can already see the long bones, and he's got tiny little delicate hands. He looks just like you. He's just a hair over six pounds."
"He's a little thing, like I was," said Vincent. He nuzzled close to Cid. "I wonder how Reno found my mother?"
"Dunno. He didn't say anything to me about it." Cid kissed Vincent's nose. "Did he do anything I'm gonna have to beat him up for?"
"No," said Vincent. "But it's got to be a lot for her to take in. I can't imagine what the last thirty years have been like for her. Now I'm back literally from the grave, bearing children. Even if Sephiroth is mine, I can't tell her about him…"
"Vincent," Cid interrupted softly. "Leave the worries for another day, okay? You just had twins. I don't want you upset. Just rest. I'm here if you need anything."
Vincent closed his eyes. "But we have to choose a name for him. And we have to decide what family name to give them. And then…"
"Shh." Cid gently kissed him.
Vincent closed his eyes, enjoying the peace, and the feel of Cid gently caressing him. They had named the first baby Benji because Cid liked the name. But the second baby, the unexpected one, was his to call as he pleased.
"Aiden," he said drowsily. "I like Aiden."
"Aiden's a good name," said Cid. "You want to call him Aiden?"
"Yeah, I think I do."
Cid kissed him. "Then that's what we'll call him."
Vincent was quiet for a little while longer, then raised his head. "Cid…"
"Look, whatever it is, it can wait. Just rest, okay? Please."
"No, really, it can't."
"What? What is so important you keep fussing and squirming?"
"I really have to get to the bathroom."
Vincent managed to get out of bed and into the bathroom. By all the gods of Gaia he felt like a cored apple. He closed the door and locked it, then stood in silence for a time, smiling to himself. It was time to paint the door frame to the bedroom, and wait for the day when a different small hand would write upon it: AIDEN IS FIVE TODAY AND THIS BIG!