Title: Five Nights to a Better Sleep
Author: bnomiko
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Cid Highwind + Vincent Valentine
Spoilers: through the OG game + DoC
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII is the creation and property of Square Co., Ltd. / Square Enix. This is a not-for-profit fanwork and I do not own any of these characters.
Summary: Cid and Vincent snuggle their way to a future together, one sleeping position at a time. Because Cid fell too head-over-heels in love after that first night, and Vincent deserves restful sleep, not passing out in depression. Begins immediately after "Stray Cat"; includes some time skips while touching on the events of "A Cat Has Nine Lives." OG FFVII universe based with reference to DoC.
Archived at: http://www.phenixsol.com/Miko/FF/

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Five Nights to a Better Sleep

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One

It began with Vincent's right hand wrapped around the base of Cid's bicep, his unprotected left arm tucked against his chest so his damaged hand lay loosely curled over where his heart would've been, his face lightly pressed into the junction of Cid's shoulder and neck. That was how they found themselves after that first night aboard the Highwind, much to Vincent's embarrassment. But Cid hadn't minded, and Vincent had slept well, so the next night, he didn't protest when Cid's weight settled beside his on the mattress. And he didn't push away so insistently when he awoke and found himself once more gripping onto the blond's arm like it was a lifeline.

Two

Then came their first time sharing a tent. Cid had openly asked Vincent if he wanted to open up their sleeping bags so one would serve as a mattress and the other a blanket since it was a waste to not share body heat, and Vincent had squinted at him, wondering who that was supposed to benefit, as he was fairly certain that he generated very little heat himself. Or was that just another excuse to snuggle up together? It wasn't like Cid had hidden his interest in him...

In the end the allure of warmth won Vincent over, despite his repeated claims that he didn't feel cold the same as normal people. He really didn't... but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the extra comfort that Cid's body heat added to his night. It quieted his demons and softened his nightmares and relieved the twinging of his scars like a soothing balm. So while everyone else shivered in their individual sleeping bags, the raven-haired man was treated to his own personal heater whenever they camped out.

It was in the tight confines of a small tent that Vincent learned that Cid enjoyed spooning. It was beyond awkward the first time Cid bumped up against his rear - Vincent had to actively fight every instinct to pull away, claw up the other man, or worse, pull out his gun and shoot him in the face - but the captain didn't grind against him or grope him. He was almost like a solid wall to lean on. And once Vincent talked himself and his demons into relaxing and accepting it - it was only Cid, after all - he found that it was actually quite comfortable "seating" himself on the dragoon's impressively broad thighs.

The only downside was Vincent's left arm was exposed in such a sleeping position, as he'd taken to sleeping on Cid's right. Even with the gauntlet on he felt a little vulnerable without somewhere to hide the limb. Cid must've sensed that, because he began protectively sliding his own left arm over the armor, cradling and supporting it even though it had to be uncomfortable hugging a piece of metal. But in the morning the sharpshooter would wake to find his arm curled up towards his chest as usual, with Cid's own still stubbornly hanging on like a remora even as he snored loudly between Vincent's shoulder blades.

Days went by. Then weeks. Sometimes sleep came easily, other times it was the byproduct of exhaustion as they collapsed after a hard battle, a painful defeat, or in Vincent's case, Limit Breaks. It never got any easier feeling bones crack and muscle tear and nerves ripping themselves apart and reconfiguring into another form; it was disorienting losing nearly all awareness only to come back to himself shivering and nauseous and surrounded by the scent of death. But Cid had become a new constant - a positive one - so when Vincent once again found himself dizzily trying to regain his hold on himself, he had Cid's gruff, concerned voice, Cid's careful hands gripping onto his own, to focus on as his body and his sanity knit themselves back together.

If it was safe enough where they were, the blond would insist on setting up camp so Vincent had more time to recover. Or if they were close enough to an inn or the Highwind he'd simply pick up Vincent like he was a floppy propeller blade and carry him back to get some rest. By that point the group had accepted that there was a bond developing between the two men, so no one questioned it when Cid made decisions on the raven-haired man's behalf. And if Vincent minded, he never said a word about it, so that was that.

Three

Losing Aerith was a hard blow, nearly taking the fight out of all of them. Then Cloud was thought lost, only to be found in Mideel delirious from Mako poisoning. Tifa elected to stay with him.

Vincent kept a stoic façade through it all, but Cid began struggling openly, having been elected leader against his wishes. He did seem like the best choice, having both military and leadership experience, but it was obvious he was out of his element, overwhelmed with the prospect of facing Shinra, Sephiroth and various planetary WEAPONs with a depleted squad. Cid began lashing out at his crew once again, and even turned his ire towards Vincent once or twice. The former Turk could've easily removed himself from the situation as there were empty cabins available, but instead he found himself dragging the captain to his quarters when the day grew late, and then further offering to curl up beside him, if he'd just settle down and go to bed. So when Cid unfolded his right arm just below Vincent's pillow, the sharpshooter did not protest, lying down and allowing the other man to pull him close so that Vincent ended up partially pillowed on Cid's tanned chest.

Despite his willingness to try, Vincent was in truth uncertain about the change in position as it seemed even more intimate than spooning in a tent - he could hear Cid's heartbeat very clearly, like a drum beating through his skull, even though he was lying on the other side of the engineer's chest. But Cid needed support just as Vincent had relied on Cid's, so he did his best to tolerate it.

At least there were some benefits. Lying like that wrapped Vincent's entire torso in Cid's warmth and unique scent: tobacco and musk, the syrupy oak of whiskey, motor grease and metal shavings, along with a distinct blast of something like crisp air, so true to the name Highwind - and he rather liked it. Certainly it was a far cry better than mildew in a decaying coffin lining or the sharp sting of lab disinfectant. He almost wanted to switch out of his borrowed pajamas and into his regular shirt just so it would absorb the scent so he could smell like Cid all of next day. But then the blond would realize something was up...

The other trouble was Vincent wasn't sure what to do with the rest of himself. As usual he tucked up his left arm over his chest, against Cid's side, but where to put the right? It seemed too forward to wrap it around Cid's waist, but it was weird to just let it dangle. Then Cid reached down and tugged his arm over, and it became clear – ah, that was exactly what he wanted.

The pilot had a bit of fat padding his midsection, and Vincent found that... cute? It was a little give, a little softness, on a man that otherwise came across as tough as old leather. Though Vincent knew better – under the loud, foul language and stressed chain smoking, Cid had a heart of gold, at least when it came to him, whether it was because of his clear attraction, or a sense of pity.

Cid's right arm tightened around the raven-haired man's back; his left felt its way down to Vincent's normal hand, resting on it without clinging in such a way that it felt restraining. Vincent sighed, suddenly unsure who was comforting who.

Four

After Meteorfall, Cid asked Vincent to come back to Rocket Town with him, and with no better options the taller man agreed, as long as Shera was okay with that as well. She had no protest; Vincent had been a quiet and courteous guest when staying overnight before plus her room was downstairs and Cid's was upstairs along with a spare room. Shera figured Vincent would take that second room except it was so cluttered up with all sorts of things she wasn't sure how they were going to make it habitable in short order, but Cid told her to not worry about it.

It took her less than a week to realize why Cid had dismissed her concern so easily... Vincent had moved into the captain's room. Not that she heard or saw direct evidence of it – if nothing else they had always respected one another's right to privacy - but when she'd asked Cid about where some of the technical manuals had gotten moved to, he'd flippantly answered that they were right where she'd last left them. Along with every other bit of junk stuffed into the room.

It was on Cid's bed that Vincent discovered that he liked being the big spoon too, now that things had quieted somewhat. With his height, it was easy for him to curve himself around Cid's body, to rest his chin atop the close cropped blond hair or press his face into it if he so chose. It was like hugging a giant stuffed animal, one that smelled of coconut of all things, as that was the shampoo Shera bought for the household so the pilot used it without thinking about it.

Cid had no complaints about it either, waking up to his lover's hand on his upper thigh, fingers gently pressing into the hollow in front of the hip bone, and a leg slung over his own, feeling Vincent's soft, slower-than-normal breaths skimming the back of his head. He liked being the one making the moves and pressing the pace as far as their romance; he loved playing the role of a protector. But it was a nice change of pace having Vincent show him that he valued their closeness just as much.

Five

As wonderful as it would've been to simply settle down to a quiet, domestic life, Vincent couldn't stay put in Rocket Town for long. He visited regularly and stayed as long as he could, but he spent just as much time roaming as he did by Cid's side. After all the planet and its residents still needed help; Reeve had numerous tasks he was trying to accomplish and a lone wolf, former Turk who was beyond bribery, greed or corruption was the perfect choice to help with many of those things.

Deepground wasn't supposed to be a big issue - initial WRO intel had indicated it was a small splinter faction of SOLDIER. But because the group had been so secretive no one understood just how dangerous they were; by the time the full extent of the threat was realized, even Vincent himself wasn't enough. Chaos clashed with Omega before both semi-WEAPON and WEAPON returned to the planet, leaving Vincent shattered, drifting helplessly between life and death, until he was brought back to the WRO hospital for treatment.

Cid moved into Vincent's patient room barely two days after he was admitted. An extra bed was brought in so the engineer could sleep at his partner's side, but even then he couldn't do more than hold Vincent's hand or touch his shoulder due to all the injuries plus the varied medical monitoring devices in place. It had been hell for Cid - worry made him restless even after sleepless nights; nicotine withdrawal only made it worse. It drove him crazy being confined to a sterile hospital room. But he refused to let it get him down. How much worse was it for Vincent, who'd sacrificed himself for the well being of everyone on the planet? He had no say in being there. He was the one hurting. So Cid sucked it up and brought in stuff to work on and even decorated the place with photos and get well cards to make it less depressing, forcing himself to think ahead. Because Vincent would recover, even if it took weeks or months, and he wanted to make sure he could welcome him back with a genuine smile and maybe a new gauntlet to replace the inadequate older one that had been damaged.

Once Vincent was out of his coma Cid also had a sofa brought up, one long enough that even a tall man like Vincent could stretch out on it. And Vincent did take advantage of that once he was a little more stabilized, frequently lying with his head on Cid's lap, his face pressed against his lover's belly. He'd drowse while listening to the rapid taps as Cid typed instructions at Shera, or the soft scratch of pencil on graph paper as drafts were laid out for one idea or another.

A couple of the doctors frowned at the set up, but as Vincent seemed to rest a little better while in close contact with his lover, Cid refused to be talked out of it.

It must've made an impression on the raven-haired man despite the fact that he'd been asleep or unconscious throughout most of his hospitalization. Because even after Vincent's "miracle" recovery and subsequent release, sometimes he'd lean into Cid's shoulder, then press in until he "slipped" and landed on Cid's lap, whether they were in bed reading or on the sofa watching old movies. To show his approval Cid would carefully slide his fingers over Vincent's scalp and through his hair - grateful that Vincent saw the value in caring for it now - then rub his thumb and forefinger in slow circles down the back of Vincent's neck and over his shoulders. It was an indulgence, and Cid loved it - Vincent rarely did anything nice for himself. Even a little thing like lap time was another step forward.

And if they happened to fall asleep like that, so be it. Cid usually slid down into more of a slouch which wrecked both his neck and lower back by the time he awoke hours later to infomercials on the television, and Vincent would pull up the throw until nothing but his eyelids were visible, leaving his feet bared and cold if he didn't scrunch himself up, which he usually didn't. And if he didn't manage to roll over at some point, he'd also wake up to a tingling ear, the appendage having fallen asleep after being pressed into Cid's muscular thigh. But a crimped neck and chilled toes were hardly any inconvenience after everything they'd been through. They were together, they were safe, and that was what mattered.

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Author's Notes:

- Story brought to you by: my insomnia during a weekend trip to Las Vegas. But seriously, I'm obsessed with imagining how different characters handle sleeping together.

- Thanks to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!

May 29, 2025