Educating Vincent

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Cid/Vincent
Warnings: None (I feel there should be a warning for lack of Mpreg - pebt)
Summary: Vincent finally gets a look at the world around him.
Notes: Sorry about the fics being few and far between. Real life keeps biting me in the ass.

For ani_mama, of course!

Picture by Animama

“Awww…. Vin, baby! What did they do to you?”

Vincent Valentine was quite possibly the saddest and most morose little undead gunslinger on Gaia. He had gone out five hours ago to pick up their take-out order of Chinese food, and had only just returned, and it had clearly been quite an adventure. He was absolutely filthy, and reeked of sulphur, engine grease, gasoline and smoke. His hair was a charred mess, and his clothing was little more than tattered and melted scraps of leather. The only parts that had survived intact were the brass shoes and the lethal claws. Even the imposing red cape was little more than a withered chunk of burned and tangled strings. He was more or less naked.

“That’s a good look for you,” said Cid.

“Yeah!” said Yuffie.

Cid slapped a hand over her eyes. Vincent coughed, exhaling a small puff of black smoke, then set down the five pristine bags of Chinese take out.

“I’m taking a bath,” he mumbled, then slowly limped through the hotel room to the bathroom, closing the door.

Cid followed after him, slipping into the bathroom and locking the door. Vincent was seated on the side of the bathtub, slowly picking scraps of fabric out of his wounds, dropping the rags into the small waste basket.

“What happened?” asked Cid.

Vincent shook his head. “Started off as a pissing match between some teenagers. Then some Deepground hounds showed up and attacked, and then somebody managed to upset the take-out stand’s deep fryer and start a fire, which woke up some sort of earth-dragon that was under the take-out place, and that was when this car came out of nowhere and crashed into the building. Next time you go for take-out.”

“Awwww… poor Vin.” Cid began helping him to pick off the scraps of cloth. “Well let’s get you cleaned up then you can have dinner. Where do you keep your spare set of clothes?”

“I don’t have a spare set.”

Cid paused, and blinked at him in surprise. “You don’t have a spare set of clothes?”

Vincent shook his head.

“Well what are you going to wear?!”

Vincent shrugged.

“Well you can’t run around stark naked!”

“I can just shift into my Galian Beast form. I don’t need clothes if I have fur.”

“Yeah or I could loan you some and take you clothes shopping.”

“I don’t want to go clothes shopping, Cid. The last time I went was with Lucrecia and I ended up standing next to one of those mannequins wearing underwear in the ladies’ lingerie section and holding a stack of pink boxes.”

Cid chuckled. “I bet you were cute.”

“I didn’t feel cute.”

“Well I won’t make you stand in the ladies’ underwear section. Unless you would prefer to wear panties. But that’s not any of my business, I mean a man’s underwear is his own affair.”

“I don’t wear panties, Cid.”

Cid helped him finish undressing. “Come on, into the tub. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked up the red cape. “Into the trash with you, scrap-heap.”

“No don’t throw the cape out.”

Cid turned his head to look at Vincent, lip curled in puzzlement. “Hah? Why not? It’s destroyed.”

“It’s alive.”

The sneer grew larger. “HAH?”

“It’s alive. It’s a corporeal manifestation of a demon.”

That was all Cid needed to hear. He tossed the ruined garment as if it was a flaming turd onto the sink and moved as far away from it as possible. Vincent laughed quietly.

“It’s not dangerous, Cid.”

“It’s a demon, what do you mean it’s not dangerous?!”

“It’s one of the life forms living within me. She won’t hurt you because I like you. That means she likes you, too.”

“Oh a demon likes me. Yeah that’s comforting.”

Vincent slipped into the cold empty bath, putting in the plug and turning on the tap. The tub began to fill, and a gentle steam rose off of water.

“Want me to wash your back?” asked Cid. “Maybe get some shears to hack off what’s left of that mop?”

“It’s fine,” said Vincent softly. “It will grow back. Watch.” He picked up the wash cloth and plunged it into the water, then raised the dripping wet cloth over his head, running the water down over his ruined hair. As the water slid over it like silver snakes, the black hair grew like strange tendrils, losing the burned appearance and smoothing out as it grew. Vincent once more plunged the cloth into the water and squeezed it over his hair again.

“See? It regenerates, like the rest of me.”

“Pretty nifty trick,” said Cid. “Think it will work on your pants?”

“I suspect not,” said Vincent, quiet amusement in his voice.

“Well you clean up. I’ll find you something to wear. Then in the morning we’ll go shopping.”

That was much easier said than done. The main problem was nobody else in the party was built like a six-foot-seven-inch supermodel.

“This is hopeless,” said Yuffie, surveying the heaps of items that made up the party’s clothes. “I’m the only one here with a small enough ass.”

“Vincent’s ass is bigger than yours,” said Barret.

“No, his ass is higher than mine. But the width is the same. Look. See? These are my shorts. And here we have the remains of Vincent’s pants. Notice the similarities?”

Barret raised an eyebrow. “My god that man is skinny.”

“I’d be skinny too if I didn’t have to eat,” said Tifa.

“Just subtract the weight of your boobs from your ass,” said Cid.

Tifa socked him with a quick blow to his face. Cid grabbed his nose, swearing.

“Look we just have to find him something he can wear until he gets to the clothing shop,” said Cloud. “He can wear my leathers.”

“There is no way Vincent is going to fit into your leathers,” said Barret.

“Well unless Sephiroth pops by to loan him his coat it’s all we have,” said Cloud.

“He’ll look like his outfit shrunk,” said Tifa. “Why don’t I just go shop for him?”

“Because you’ll bring back something cute and he’ll wear it in silent agony because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings,” said Cid, examining his nose for blood and breakage.

“What’s wrong with cute?” said Tifa.

“The world isn’t ready for an undead cross-dresser, that’s what,” said Barret.

“Look let’s just find him something to wear,” said Cid. “All it has to do is keep him from being naked in public.”

‘Something to wear’ turned out to be a pair of Cid’s jeans, Barret’s socks, a t-shirt that belonged to Tifa, and Cloud’s leathers. Vincent looked like he had just lost a fight with a thrift store. He was annoyed and humiliated and did not want to appear in public like that, but he had no choice. He certainly couldn’t walk around like this all the time.

“Poor baby,” said Cid softly, touching his face. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

***---***

Vincent Valentine was in hell.

He stuck very close to Cid, moving like a whipped cur. He didn’t like the bright signs, the neon, the noise, the crowds… it was absolutely the last place Vincent wanted to be. Cid felt his heart break for him as they walked down the sidewalk in the crowded and fashionable districts of Midgar. Vincent would have rather been anywhere but there. Cid gently put an arm around him.

“Come on, Vin, it’s okay. We can do this. Here, look, here’s the shop I wanted to take you to.” Cid guided him into a little boutique. “Look. See? Nice and dark… nice friendly Goths… feel better?”

Vincent stood in the shop, looking around, jewel-red eyes blinking. Like a turtle emerging from his shell he slowly straightened up, looking around, his demeanour changing from one of worry and intimidation to one of curiosity. He sniffed the air, scented with exotic incense and funeral lilies. Music played at a comfortable level, and candles were placed all around in elegant Victorian-style holders.

“Bet they didn’t have shops like this when you went to sleep,” said Cid.

Vincent shook his head, eyes wide. A young woman walked out of the back of the shop and approached them. She was in a full length gown of artfully-tattered black velvet, her eyes circled in kohl, her fingernails, lips and hair all black as night in a crypt. She looked his outfit over, then snorted in quiet amusement.

“Looks like you got here just in time.”

“It’s laundry day,” said Cid.

The woman laughed. “Whatever. You’ve got fabulous bones. Come on. Let’s get you dressed. Oh I love your shoes!”

“Don’t encourage him,” said Cid.

Cid could tell this was a very new experience for Vincent. When he had climbed into his casket thirty years ago, shops were brightly-lit affairs that sold ‘proper’ clothes, and specialty shops like this were not to be found. To find a shop where he was actually catered to was almost more than he could believe. Within a surprisingly short period of time Vincent had picked out a new set of leathers, as well as other items – shirts, socks, and some black silk boxers Cid couldn’t wait to get him out of.

“You look fantastic,” said Cid quietly.

Vincent walked over to a mirror and examined himself. He was dressed in a shirt of black leather so soft and fine that it draped like silk, and black leather pants with a series of fine draping chains that hung from around his small waist, circling his hips. Those pants sent every drop of blood Cid had rushing south.

“How do I look?” asked Vincent.

“Great,” Cid squeaked. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to lower an octave. “So you… wanna get some coffee?”

Vincent gave him a confused look. “Coffee?”

“Yeah.”

Vincent seemed puzzled but finally nodded.

Cid wasn’t sure what Vincent had been expecting, but he loved the way he lit up once they stepped inside the combination bookshop and café. Vincent gazed around at the shelves of books, the tables, and the small stage placed at the back of the large shop. He breathed in the smell of exotic coffees and pastries, and Cid could sense that Vincent’s usual shell had been forgotten somewhere else.

“Come on,” said Cid. “Let’s get our coffee now, they won’t let us after the reading starts.”

Vincent turned his head abruptly to look at Cid, eyes large in surprise.

“Reading?”

“Yeah they do readings here. Some lady is gonna read from some lame-ass book all about how the werewolf is a euphemism for puberty and awakening sexuality.”

Cid hadn’t thought that Vincent’s eyes could get larger, but they did. “Do you mean ‘The Werewolf Chronicles’ by Samantha Knight?”

“Yeah that’s the twit. Isn’t she your favourite author or something?”

Vincent pounced on Cid, wrapping his arms and legs around him and shoving a tongue down his throat. Cid had no idea where Vincent’s normally very shy demeanour had gone, but he wasn’t about to complain. Cid gently set him down.

“Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get our coffee.”

The reading lasted for an hour, and Cid couldn’t help but notice that he and Vincent were the only two males in the place. He also couldn’t help but notice most of Miss Knight’s work dealt with female puberty and all the interesting things that went with it. Vincent was enraptured of her insight. Cid wanted to quietly escape before he had to hear one more eye-squinting toe-curling cringe-worthy description of the menstrual cycle.

At the end of the reading, Mr. I-lived-in-a-casket-thirty-years popped out of his seat and went to introduce himself to the author. Cid was only able to stare in utter disbelief as Vincent vanished into a crowd of female intellectuals, authors and artists… and seemed to have no trouble at all interacting with them. But then again, Vincent liked women. It was life he couldn’t seem to figure out. Vincent chatted with the women for a while, then at one point indicated Cid. Eleven heads turned to regard the smelly mechanic who did not look anything like the intelligent nurturing life companion Vincent had just insisted he was.

“What do you hens want?” Cid grouched.

“Cid,” said Vincent, affection in his voice. “Can you just once show someone besides me what a loving human being you are?”

“I took you to the literary cackle-fest, what more do you want out of me?”

Eventually Cid and Vincent left the café. It was only a little after two pm, and the day was bright and beautiful. Cid slipped an arm around Vincent, watching him, noticing how he seemed less afraid than he had been.

“The world has changed so much,” said Vincent. “I thought I didn’t have a place in it.”

“You just had to wait for the world to catch up,” said Cid. “What would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” said Vincent, holding his autographed book close to his chest, looking somehow more sweet and vulnerable than Cid had ever seen him.

“How about a little Shakespeare in the park?”

Vincent stared at him, eyes huge. “They do Shakespeare in the park now?”

“Yeah, they built a little outdoor theatre about fifteen years back.”

“But there’s no park in this area.

“Well thirty years ago, Mr. Valentine, it was an abandoned lot with three burned-out factories on it. Now it’s a park with an exotic bird aviary and theatre. Come on. We can look at the shrieking feathered shit-factories before we go watch Bill’s play about death smut and incest.”

“How can you be the most romantic man I know and a complete asshole at the same time?”

“It’s a gift.” He slid an arm around Vincent. “The secret is you have to be kinda soured on life, but not actually enough to have completely given up hope.”

Vincent kissed his face. “I love you. And I’m having a wonderful day. I didn’t think… after what they did to me… that I would ever be able to enjoy life again.”

“I know,” said Cid, squeezing him gently. “But I think you’ve been punished enough for the heinous crime of loving the wrong person.”

“So do I.” said Vincent. “At least… I’m starting to realize that what Lucrecia really wanted was for me to take the fall for her crimes. It could have all been so different. Even Sephiroth is her victim. She could have saved him. He is her child. She should have saved him.”

“Some people just like the role of eternal victim,” said Cid. “Sounds like she was one of them.”

“I don’t want to be a victim anymore,” said Vincent softly. “I want to be with you.”

“Thought you just said you didn’t wanna be a victim.”

Vincent laughed quietly and nuzzled him, then suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. Cid stopped as well and watched him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I didn’t realize… we shouldn’t be… so open about…”

Cid kissed Vincent, touching his face. “Vin… a lot of time has passed. Maybe more than you realize.” He kissed him again very softly. “Now come on. Hamlet’s waiting.”

“I can’t believe you like Shakespeare,” said Vincent.

“Ah I just like Ophelia. She rocks. Then after Hamlet we can go down into the outdoor markets.”

“Cid?”

“Hmm?”

“Marry me.”

“Anytime, anywhere, beautiful.”

***---***

Vincent loved the play, but he was mad about the outdoor market they went to next, and the enormous selection of exotic delicacies he’d never heard of. Cid had assumed that Vincent would get as far as the clothing store and that would be it for him, but Vincent seemed to be enjoying his time out of his shell. He bought a cookbook, some strange-looking eggs, chocobo meat, some odd spices, a couple of small pots, and an assortment of vegetables Cid was certain had originated on another planet. He also bought a hot plate.

“Cooking in the hotel room is a no-no, Valentine,” said Cid.

“Only if you get caught,” said Vincent.

“How about instead we just move all of us to a little cottage with a stove for the night?”

Vincent looked over his shoulder at Cid. “How about we move just you and me to a little cottage for the night?”

Cid raised an eyebrow, and a grin spread across his face. “I’ll book the cottage.”

“I’ll pick the wine.”

***---***

They lay together in a tangle of blankets, bodies gleaming with sweat in the firelight. Cid lay on his back, cigarette in one hand, his other arm around Vincent, who was pressed close to him, one hand resting on Cid’s chest. All around the room were plates, glasses, items of clothing, and a handful of toys of an adult nature. Vincent had been really excited to find out that adult shops were no longer hidden in dark little alleyways. For once in his life, Cid got to stand in the corner and look mortified.

“So did you have a good day?” Cid asked.

“Yeah,” said Vincent. He nestled closer. “Best day in a long time.” He languidly rolled onto his back. “I still feel freakish and out of place but… not like I did. And though my heart no longer beats… I feel alive. You’ve given me my life back, Cid. Thank you.”

Cid stubbed out the remains of his cigarette, then moved on top of Vincent, kissing him softly. “Nah. I just helped you find it. Thirty years was a long time to be gone, Vincent. The world’s changed a lot. In some ways it’s worse, in some ways it’s better. But… that place that treated you so badly and left you broken inside… it’s gone forever. This is a whole new world. And whole new chance for happiness.”

Vincent kissed Cid, parting his legs and drawing them up. He was uncertain if Cid would be ready to perform again so soon, but wanted to make the invitation anyway. “It’s been a most educational day.”

Cid kissed him, slowly becoming aroused again. He wasn’t as young as he had been; these days it took a little longer to reload the gun. Vincent on the other hand was paused forever and amen at twenty-seven. And there was nothing randier than a young male.

“What are we going to do when I’m ninety? Hire you a consort?”

“Oh I won’t need a consort. I’m sure by then they will have invented something that will enable you to remain a mad passionate lover.”

“Uh huh. And if they haven’t?”

“You can work my sex toys.”

“Oh that’s a sorry-assed job description. Cid Highwind, Dildo Pilot.”

Vincent laughed, then kissed him, feeling the stiffening penis nudge against his opening. “You can pilot my dildo anytime, handsome.” He moaned softly as Cid entered him, moving his body in time with Cid’s thrusts. “Let’s get married. Can we do that?”

“Not legally, at least not here, but we can hold a ceremony and have our friends come over.”

“Let’s do that,” said Vincent softly. He grinned. “Barret can be the flower girl.”

“Who’s gonna wear the dress?”

“Me.” Vincent did a passable imitation of the woman in the Goth clothing shop. “I’ve got fabulous bones.”

“Well she was right about that.”

Cid kissed Vincent, pressing himself more deeply into the slender body. Vincent gasped, closing his eyes, uttering soft little cries as Cid made love to him. Tomorrow they had to get back on the road and resume the hunt for Sephiroth. But for now there was time enough for themselves.

“Cid?”

“Hmm?”

“I like shopping with you.”

Cid just grinned, and kissed him again.