A Change: Good Morning!

 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the final fantasy characters or places. I just own the creatures :)

 

 

Lime Warning. Not going to tell you when.

The sun crept over the horizon, lighting sky minute by minute. Beautiful oranges and reds mingled with baby blue, melting the frost that the chilled night air had left on the sand. A small fox poked its tiny little head out of it burrow, its massive ears twitching for any signs of danger.

The small village of Cosmo Canyon was silent, all humans and animals sleeping soundly, for the time being.

All except one.

A gray hand reached out from its place under a mountain of blankets, grasping a fluffy white pillow and slamming it over a raven head.

In the next bed, a loud snore rocked through the small room.

Vermillion eyes squeeze shut as tightly as they would go as the hand pressed the pillow against the blankets harder.

Snore

Eyes snapped open.

Snore

A foot started to twitch irritability under the sheet, nerves ready to pop.

…

There was silence…

Snore

“Urg!”

Vincent snapped out from under the covers, pillow dropping into his lap with a thunk and sheet dropping to his waist.

Three hours…Three fucking hours of these no stop snore fest.

Three hours…

Why him? Why was it always him?

He wanted to sleep damn it. Two hour just isn’t enough!

The irritating snoring continued in the next bed as Cid rolled over, head burying into a pillow. The sheets where practically kicked off the bed, arms flung about and legs curled up against his stomach. Blond hair was tousled and drool hung off the corner on the captains mouth. Vincent flinched at the grotesque slight of the stringy substance as it dripped down onto the pillow with an almost agonizing slowness. He has kissed that mouth last night…

Vincent’s eyes slid from Cid’s sleeping face to the shoulder that was almost hidden under the mass of the pilot. The bandage had a little speck of blood on the white underneath the tape but that was about it.

After about an hour of fighting with the pilot, the gunslinger had finally manage to get Cid stitched up and the wound covered.

It would have been easier to just use his Heal materia… had a certain ninja not stolen it again.

Cid had polished of the rest of whiskey from the practically empty bottle before he crashed and was apparently still out.

Exhausted and frustrated, Valentine had taken a shower, stolen a pair of cotton slacks and a simple black t-shirt from Cid (which were many sizes to big for his thin frame) and then fell into a blissful and peaceful 2 hour sleep. Being woken up by howls from the desert wasn’t so bad, though it did put him on the edge a bit. It had been Cid’s horrible, throaty snore that wouldn’t let him fall back to sleep.

Vincent plopped back against the mattress with a heaved sigh and briefly shut his eyes as the pilot once again rolled over, his snoring seizing for at least a few moments.

Eyes shifted to the curtain less window, glazing at the distant cliff side where he could slightly make out The Highwind’s (number II mind you) shadow from it place in front of the rising sun. It was quite stunning how something as simple as a sunrise could be a lovely as it was even if it happens every single day, each one is different.

The gunslinger stretched out his legs, muscles tensing and straining pleasantly as he curled his toes with a crack.

Not that he needed much sleep mind you. Thirty years had given him enough. The maximum hours he could sleep at night now was three, maybe hour and for some odd reason it was from one am to four give or take a few minutes. Sleep just didn’t comfort him anymore. Every dream was like a ticking clock, slow and winding. They were filled fog and dark skies. Filled with emotions of confusion, angry, angst and deep forebodingness.

No light, no sound except for the groans of non-existent trees and screams from non-existent people. Nothing else. Just terror.

The gunman sat back up and ran his gray, thin scarred hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers got caught in a knot near the ends. Bringing his hand back down, Vincent glazed at the scar torn flesh. It really wasn’t all that bad. His right calf was worse then his hand was. Hojo had played ‘Insane Doctor’ with his body for almost a year and a half.

Slicing his muscles apart, sewing them back together only to take them back apart again later.

Apparently small bits of bone from his leg had been taken and placed into his arm when the bastard of a scientist had ‘accidentally’ sawed the bone in half and a chunk was taken of. That was only some of the things he did.

 

Bad enough the bastard made a game call ‘Find the Turks Stone Heart’.

 

That had been a dreadful month.

 

With a dramatic stretch, one he himself was sure of could only accomplish, of arching his back with a pop, Vincent tossed off the covers and stood.

 

Vincent took notice that Cid’s snoring had seized, meaning that the pilot had mostly began to wake up, as he walked into the tiny bathroom of the Inn’s room. White tiling covered the walls, a simple green shower curtain hiding the tub with a matching green bathmat beside it. Walking over to the mirror, Vincent was slightly startled at the sight of his tangled mop of raven. Vincent grumbled to himself as he picked up a brush, which he suspected was the pilots because of the blond hairs laced threw it, and forcefully ran the object through the tangled mess.

 

“One day I’ll remember to go out and get it cut. One day it will be short again. One day I won’t have to deal with this nonsense every morning. One day-”

 

“One day you’ll act like a normal human bein’ and stop talkin’ to yerself.”

 

“Shit!”

 

Startled was an understatement in Vincent’s case, as the gunslinger shot around and his foot catching on the bathmat. Out of pure instinct the gunners hand snapped down to his side to grab at a gun that wasn’t there as he smashed his elbow on the counter to stop himself from falling on his ass as his other leg jabbed into the wall next to the door way.

 

And before he realized it, his weaponless hand reached out non-to-threatenly and pointed itself at Cid.

 

The captain stood in the frame of the door with his shoulder supporting his weight against it as he lazily watched the gunman with sleep covered eyes, his hand covering the yawn on his lips. Blond hair hung hazardously in the pilot’s sky eyes, his boxer shorts rumpled and showing off strong thighs.

 

Valentine’s heart pounded furiously against his chest as he practically hung mid air in the small confines of the bathroom.

 

“Highwind you asshole.”

 

Cid cocked his head to the side, clearly amused at the situation at hand.

 

“Nice gun Vince, new?”

 

Vincent looked at his hand. Empty.

 

”You startled me.”

 

”That’s a first. Usually it’s the other way ‘round.”

 

Vincent scowled at the blond hair man, shifting and trying to get a grip on the counter.

 

“Havin’ trouble?”

 

The gunslinger ignored the pilot’s question and placed his other hand behind him, trying to raise his weight. It was to early for this.

 

Suddenly the captain chuckled and stepped into the bathroom. Striding up the stuck darker haired man, the pilot grabbed onto the closest thigh and pulled up while reaching down to grab the trapped leg.

 

“Cid, what the hell are you doing?!”

 

With a quick pulled, Cid had Vincent’s lower half lifted to counter height and push the gunman onto the cold surface.

 

Shocked vermilion eyes stayed on Highwind face throughout the entire encounter. The feeling of strong, warm callused hands on cold cotton covered pants sent a shiver down the ex-Turks back and to the pit of his stomach. The position that Cid had put them in didn’t help. He could feel the pilots breath on his neck, feel the heat coming off the tanned chest through his shirt and felt the hands on his thighs move up.

 

“Cid…stop.”

 

Highwind did the opposite, his rough chin brushing Vincent’s throat as dried lips landed underneath his ear.

 

“What if I don’t wanna?”

 

Vincent’s licked his lips but didn’t answer.

 

“Thought so.”

 

A hand crept up the curve of a thin hip, rubbing against the bandage on the gunman’s side under the shirt carefully as his fingers ran across it repeatedly. It felt soothing and gently to Vincent who had completely forgot about it till the pads of Highwind’s finger scrapped across the medical tape. Lips attacked the base of his ear again, a tongue joining them in they’re light brushing.

 

The lip moved upward tracing the pale flesh of a lobe and drawing it into a warm mouth.

 

The darker man let out a soft sigh, his right hand resting on the curve of the pilots neck as his fingers rubbed the base and into blond hair. It felt to welcoming to stop, not that he had any plans to. He blamed this on a morning hard on, whether it was his or if it was Cid’s he didn’t know, but either way, it felt good and he wasn’t about to push it away.

 

His left hand lifted to run across the rough hairs on Cid chin as he pulled the blonds face to his, his thumb and finger grasping a chin roughly.

 

“I see ya took care of it after all. Didn’t think ya would.” His fingers continued to dance across pale skin and bandage.

 

Vincent hummed softly. “I said I would, and I did. Now, shut up.”

 

Pulled the pilot forwards, the gunman took Cid’s bottom lip into his mouth, tugging and nipping at the piece of flesh. The man groaned deep in his throat as his hand that wasn’t on a pale hip moved to Vincent hair, pulling him even closer while taking over the mans mouth.

 

Both refused to give into one another as Vincent’s tongue pushed against Cid’s and vise versa, teeth almost crashing against each other from the force. Cid’s tongue slid across sharp canines, playing dangerously against them as Valentine stroked the underside of the meddling muscle.

 

Vincent groaned when Cid pushed against him and pulled his waist closer, grinding them together. Slim leg folded around the pilots hips and thighs, heels jabbing into skin.

 

‘Damn,’ Cid thought ’Imma half’ta do this more often.’

 

Vincent right hand removed itself from the base of the pilots neck and slid down his hairless chest, nails scrapping and leaving a trail of white in they’re path. Muscles twitched underneath his hand as he moved it around, memorizing the feel of the pilot’s flesh and the heat that it gave off. Slim fingers move further south, brushing a fine wash board stomach, and playing with the fine blond hairs trailing down his abdomen and staying there.

 

Cid bit his lip one last time before he pulled back, panting softly as he played with the ends of the dark haired man’s messy strands.

 

“Good morning to you too Vince.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Hey-

 

Before Cid could say anything else, a tooth brush with paste already on it was being shoved into his open trap.

 

Vincent’s brow was lifted as a coy smirk played his lips.

 

“You have horrible morning breath.”

 

”Gmee, thmanks.”

 

Valentine pushed the captain away with a playful shove as the man ran the brush over his teeth.

 

Picking up the brush that had landed in the sink, Vincent slid off the counter and continued to brush the mop of black hair.

 

“Ya know-” Cid started between passes of the brush.

 

“-if ya tied it back-”

 

Spit

 

“-at night the ya-“

 

Gargle

 

”-wouldn’t have ta ruin mine or your brush and make yer hair worse.”

 

Cid rinsed the brush off while washing his hands and wiping his mouth of with on of the cheap monogram towels. Vincent continued with the furious yanking of the brush.

 

“Thank you for your advice, Obi Wan Cidnobi. I will take it to heart. But for now, piss off."

 

Cid scowled while taking the hand towel and running it under the tap to wipe if face off.

 

"Alright Darth Vampy, no need to go to the dark side and get bitchy with me, I was just sayin'.”

 

After saying this, Cid spun the wet towel around till it was in a neat spiral.

 

“Hey, Vince?”

 

Vincent growled in frustration and spun around…

 

”What do you-“

 

And was smacked square peg in the face with the wet towel.

 

---

 

“Hey! Hey Mr. Innnnnn Keeper!”

 

A bold man with bottle lenses turned towards his customer.

 

”Yes Miss?”

 

The little girl snapped on the gum she had between her teeth as he beady little green eyes stared at the elder man. Her ginger colored shoulder length hair was peppered with dirt and straw as her freckle nose crinkled with irritation.

 

“Ya, there’s this big dog loose in the chocobo stable, ya know? And like, it sounds like its attacking them birds. I think ya better get someone over dar to catch dat thing.”

 

The child said it so casually that the inn keeper wasn’t fazed.

 

Until he look at his booking booklet.

 

V. Valentine and C. Highwind- Room 5 for two “Stall reserved for unknown animal, sent by Nanaki”

 

Eyes bugged as the short fat man took off in a fast wobble up a steep set of stairs, sweet pouring down his pudgy little face after only half the steps.

 

Making it to the top unharmed and a few pounds less, he again took off down the hall, shouting as he went.

 

“Mister Valentine! Mister Highwind! Mister Valentine!”