Mary's story part two.
Oh, the cheeziness! Yay! be warned though! This is the second part of the slash story I'm doing for mary to make her feel better.
Vincent stood in the shower, eyes shut, letting the hot water flow over his body. Today had been a very long day. It had been almost three weeks since the madness of bloodlust had taken him over, and he had almost begun to hope that he had finally gained some measure of control over the demons inside him. But then the sickness had come on him full force this morning, so terrible in its power that he had barely managed to get away from the Highwind before Chaos ripped its way out from inside him. Vincent feared that one day he would lose total control in battle and hurt or kill one of his companions. The demon's thirst for blood was so great that it hardly cared whose blood it was, so long as it was fresh. The most horrible part of the day had been the sense of relief Vincent had felt when Chaos clawed its way to life, the feeling that this form was the more natural, and the deep primal joy he had felt when one massive clawed hand ripped open the throat of a monster, felt its blood spill into his mouth. The joy of killing. This was the reason that Vincent was allowing himself to live only long enough to put an end to Sephiroth's evil before taking his own life. He hadn't discussed this with his teammates, both because he knew they weren't sure if they would make it out of the upcoming battle alive, and because he knew they would protest his decision.
Vincent jumped as the shower room door creaked open, and the sound of someone whistling filled the room. "Holy shit, Vincent!" Oh. Cid. "How long you been in here, man? All the windows are completely fucking fogged up."
"I don't know..." Vincent responded distantly.
A beat. "Well, I'm gonna take a shower, OK?" Cid's voice called over the water. Vincent nodded, realized Cid couldn't see it, then answered back, "Allright..." He heard the pilot's clothes fall to the ground, then the rustling of the shower curtain in the next stall over, then finally the sound of the shower running like his own.
Cid was a good man. Despite his foul language and rough demeanor, he genuinely cared about his friends, and always tried his hardest to look out for them. Privately, Vincent cared for the pilot in a way that he could never express, as more than a friend... in a way that he had not felt about anyone since Lucrecia had died. Cid had been the only one who hadn't recoiled in fear the first time Chaos had ripped its way to the surface during a battle. He'd been the one who'd kept the team together after Aerith was murdered in cold blood in front of their eyes, holding his own sorrow back until later to be there for the rest of his companions. And Cid was always trying to make sure Vincent himself was okay, something that the former Turk appreciated far more than he would ever show. He would never, of course, tell Cid how he felt, because he absolutely refused to ruin anyone else's lives. Hence his silence....
A sudden tremor ran down Vincent's spine, and he fell to his knees as a wave of nausea screamed through him. Laughter echoed inside his head, thick and insane and utterly evil. Chaos? The sensation of huge, looming wings. No. Not so soon! I can't.... can't fight him again this soon.... Vincent clawed the wall in agony as the skin of his body burned with the black fire inside him. "Augh.... nooo...." he moaned, his body wracked with pain.
"Vincent? VINCENT!" He was vaguely aware of the sound of Cid's voice, the feel of strong arms around his body as he fell into swirling, misty darkness.
Cid was panicking. Vincent had collapsed on the shower floor, blood dribbling from his mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head as his whole body shook. Cid had Vincent in his lap, trying to stifle the taller man's convulsions with his own body. Water was still gushing from the shower head, making Vincent slippery to hold. Afraid that he would drop his friend, Cid reached up with one hand and turned off the shower. "Hold on, Vincent," he whispered to his friend, who was still moaning and thrashing. Wrapping one arm around Vincent's back and looping the other under the back of his legs, Cid picked up his friend with a grunt and staggered out to the area in front of the shower stalls. Still holding Vincent in his arms, he very carefully lowered them both to the ground. Cid rocked his tormented friend back and forth, arms wrapped protectively around the frail body even as the demon screamed in anger at being denied. It was horrible to hear that voice coming from Vincent's mouth, and even more horrible to see the way Vincent's eyes glowed that terrible red, but the pilot held Vincent until the fit subsided.
Cid waited cautiously as Vincent's body sagged in his arms. The former Turk's breath was ragged and shallow, his pale chest rising and falling with the the exertion of each breath. "Are you....are you OK?" asked Cid tentatively after a few minutes. Vincent raised his head and looked at his friend, his eyes still cloudy with pain.
"I'll... be allright.... You can go now." The whispered words were a poorly concealed lie, and Cid shook his head, holding Vincent tighter to his chest.
"You're fulla shit, Vincent. You are so fucking far from being OK."
"Cid..." Vincent smiled, his strength already beginning to return to him. Being held in Cid's arms was not such a bad thing. "Thank you."
The words surprised the pilot, who flushed. "No problem." Cid was suddenly intensely aware of the fact that he was holding Vincent in his arms, in his lap actually, and both of them were extremely naked. Arousal flooded his body, making the humid shower room air suddenly hotter and more oppressive. "Er.... well then... if you're feeling better.... I t-think I'll go..." he stammered, hating himself for how stupid he sounded. He started to slide Vincent out of his lap, unwrapping his arms from around the taller man's body, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.
"Wait!" Vincent's voice made Cid's breath catch in his throat. He looked down at the man in his lap. Vincent's eyes were still that burning red---with pain, and with an inner torment, but there was also something else there, something primal and hungry.
"Don't go."
Vincent stood in the shower, eyes shut, letting the hot water flow over his body. Today had been a very long day. It had been almost three weeks since the madness of bloodlust had taken him over, and he had almost begun to hope that he had finally gained some measure of control over the demons inside him. But then the sickness had come on him full force this morning, so terrible in its power that he had barely managed to get away from the Highwind before Chaos ripped its way out from inside him. Vincent feared that one day he would lose total control in battle and hurt or kill one of his companions. The demon's thirst for blood was so great that it hardly cared whose blood it was, so long as it was fresh. The most horrible part of the day had been the sense of relief Vincent had felt when Chaos clawed its way to life, the feeling that this form was the more natural, and the deep primal joy he had felt when one massive clawed hand ripped open the throat of a monster, felt its blood spill into his mouth. The joy of killing. This was the reason that Vincent was allowing himself to live only long enough to put an end to Sephiroth's evil before taking his own life. He hadn't discussed this with his teammates, both because he knew they weren't sure if they would make it out of the upcoming battle alive, and because he knew they would protest his decision.
Vincent jumped as the shower room door creaked open, and the sound of someone whistling filled the room. "Holy shit, Vincent!" Oh. Cid. "How long you been in here, man? All the windows are completely fucking fogged up."
"I don't know..." Vincent responded distantly.
A beat. "Well, I'm gonna take a shower, OK?" Cid's voice called over the water. Vincent nodded, realized Cid couldn't see it, then answered back, "Allright..." He heard the pilot's clothes fall to the ground, then the rustling of the shower curtain in the next stall over, then finally the sound of the shower running like his own.
Cid was a good man. Despite his foul language and rough demeanor, he genuinely cared about his friends, and always tried his hardest to look out for them. Privately, Vincent cared for the pilot in a way that he could never express, as more than a friend... in a way that he had not felt about anyone since Lucrecia had died. Cid had been the only one who hadn't recoiled in fear the first time Chaos had ripped its way to the surface during a battle. He'd been the one who'd kept the team together after Aerith was murdered in cold blood in front of their eyes, holding his own sorrow back until later to be there for the rest of his companions. And Cid was always trying to make sure Vincent himself was okay, something that the former Turk appreciated far more than he would ever show. He would never, of course, tell Cid how he felt, because he absolutely refused to ruin anyone else's lives. Hence his silence....
A sudden tremor ran down Vincent's spine, and he fell to his knees as a wave of nausea screamed through him. Laughter echoed inside his head, thick and insane and utterly evil. Chaos? The sensation of huge, looming wings. No. Not so soon! I can't.... can't fight him again this soon.... Vincent clawed the wall in agony as the skin of his body burned with the black fire inside him. "Augh.... nooo...." he moaned, his body wracked with pain.
"Vincent? VINCENT!" He was vaguely aware of the sound of Cid's voice, the feel of strong arms around his body as he fell into swirling, misty darkness.
Cid was panicking. Vincent had collapsed on the shower floor, blood dribbling from his mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head as his whole body shook. Cid had Vincent in his lap, trying to stifle the taller man's convulsions with his own body. Water was still gushing from the shower head, making Vincent slippery to hold. Afraid that he would drop his friend, Cid reached up with one hand and turned off the shower. "Hold on, Vincent," he whispered to his friend, who was still moaning and thrashing. Wrapping one arm around Vincent's back and looping the other under the back of his legs, Cid picked up his friend with a grunt and staggered out to the area in front of the shower stalls. Still holding Vincent in his arms, he very carefully lowered them both to the ground. Cid rocked his tormented friend back and forth, arms wrapped protectively around the frail body even as the demon screamed in anger at being denied. It was horrible to hear that voice coming from Vincent's mouth, and even more horrible to see the way Vincent's eyes glowed that terrible red, but the pilot held Vincent until the fit subsided.
Cid waited cautiously as Vincent's body sagged in his arms. The former Turk's breath was ragged and shallow, his pale chest rising and falling with the the exertion of each breath. "Are you....are you OK?" asked Cid tentatively after a few minutes. Vincent raised his head and looked at his friend, his eyes still cloudy with pain.
"I'll... be allright.... You can go now." The whispered words were a poorly concealed lie, and Cid shook his head, holding Vincent tighter to his chest.
"You're fulla shit, Vincent. You are so fucking far from being OK."
"Cid..." Vincent smiled, his strength already beginning to return to him. Being held in Cid's arms was not such a bad thing. "Thank you."
The words surprised the pilot, who flushed. "No problem." Cid was suddenly intensely aware of the fact that he was holding Vincent in his arms, in his lap actually, and both of them were extremely naked. Arousal flooded his body, making the humid shower room air suddenly hotter and more oppressive. "Er.... well then... if you're feeling better.... I t-think I'll go..." he stammered, hating himself for how stupid he sounded. He started to slide Vincent out of his lap, unwrapping his arms from around the taller man's body, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.
"Wait!" Vincent's voice made Cid's breath catch in his throat. He looked down at the man in his lap. Vincent's eyes were still that burning red---with pain, and with an inner torment, but there was also something else there, something primal and hungry.
"Don't go."