Chapter Text
The latest bearer was odd.
Cid tried not to judge the new arrivals at the hideaway. He’d never had to live the life of a bearer, never earned the mental and physical scars that came with it. Everyone who they had rescued so far had their quirks.
Cid was propping up the bar in the Fat Chocobo, his favourite spot for keeping an eye on things. Otto was in his usual spot, complaining very loudly about some book-keeping thing that Cid should probably be paying attention to or handling or maybe at least listening.
“Do you think Clive is odd?”
The stream of grumbles coming from Otto paused with a curt “No.”
“You don’t think he’s odd?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to start hitting on the boy. He’s only tasted freedom for a week, give him a bit longer to settle in.”
Cid spun in his chair to face his friend, making sure his face was appropriately offended. “I wasn’t talking about hitting on the lad. I was asking if he was odd.” Hitting on him? Ridiculous. The lad had to be a good twenty years younger. He was extraordinarily pretty with signs that he’d grow into being handsome. But he was definitely odd.
“Uh-huh,” Otto said mostly to his paperwork. “I’m sure you have absolutely no interest whatsoever in this bearer that you have barely shut up about in the week since we saved his ass from the imperial army.”
Had Cid really been talking about him that much? Sure, maybe a word or two to Blackthorne but that was mostly to make sure the lad got better kit than the paper tied together with string that passed for bearer armour. And a word or three to Charon to make sure there were a few supplies available when he needed it. A quick chat with Tarja about his general health. Oh, and a check in with Bohumil about whether he’d shown any preference for apples.
Okay, maybe Cid had spoken to lots of people about him.
Cid grunted and took a swig of his ale. “But he is odd, right?”
Otto sighed the long suffering sigh of someone who realised he’s not getting any work done today, setting aside the paperwork and turning fully to face Cid. “Yeah, fine, he’s a bit odd. Will you shut up about him now?”
“His eyes are odd.”
Otto groaned and signalled to Kenneth for another ale, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “And how exactly are his eyes odd?”
“They are blue.”
Otto rubbed at his temples. “And how in the name of Greagor’s golden tits are blue eyes odd?”
Cid took a moment to think about it. “They are really blue.”
Otto slammed his hands down on the bar. “That’s it, I’m out. Go bother someone else. Somebody needs to keep this place running while you moon over your latest crush.” Otto pushed himself up out of his chair and beat a steady retreat away.
Moon? Cid didn’t moon! He surveyed.
Just then the target of Cid’s surveillance made his way into the bar. He paused at the threshold, head cocked to one side, before he made his way over to Cid’s usual perch. He smiled towards Kenneth, showing what Cid felt was slightly too much teeth. “Nutrition please.”
See, that? That was odd.
Kenneth seemed to take it in his stride though, placing a bowl of the standard stew down in front of him. Clive picked up his spoon and set to it without any regard for taste, temperature or risk of choking. In what felt like two blinks of Cid’s eyes, the bowl was completely empty.
Cid waited until the lad was definitely finished and then asked, “Settling in alright?”
Clive turned his whole body around to face Cid, smiling that too bright smile. “Yes. This place is so far very preferable to the imperial army.”
That was a low bar for success. “That’s good. Anything you need, you just let Otto know and he’ll sort it out for you.”
Clive nodded slowly, “And you are Otto?”
Well, there went Cid’s expectation that the lad reciprocated his attention. “What? No. I’m Cid. Otto’s the one that usually sits there,” he gestured to Otto’s abandoned chair. “He has a beard.”
“Cid.” There was something in the way that Clive said his name that sent a little shiver down Cid’s spine. Something almost careful like Clive’s mouth was learning to shape the syllable, precise, patient.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Cid joked and instantly regretted it.
Clive didn’t even slightly smile, just nodded as if this was another important piece of information.
Cid smiled awkwardly, a smile that only became more awkward as he realised he’d been smiling for far too long and that Clive’s eyes were on him and showed no sign of the polite looking away. Cid cracked first. “Well, better be getting on. Lots to do. People to see.” See, not awkward at all.
Clive finally turned away back to the bar, allowing Cid to escape with somewhat of his dignity.
***
One of the things that Cid was proudest of with his little hideaway was the children. Usually bearer children were raised under minimal care until they were old enough to be put to work but here in the hideaway, they could be children. They could run away, climb, draw on the walls.
There were only five kids so far but Cid had high hopes to expanding that number out, being able to bring bearers home to a place that they could have families.
Cid’s own daughter was part of the crowd and he spotted the troublemaker just as he thought that with that look on her face that suggested she was up to mischief. Admittedly that was her usual look.
Cid crouched down and held his arms out for a hug. As ever, Mid approached the hug like a charging minotaur, flinging herself at her dad, top of her head connecting with his chin in a way that made his teeth rattle. “Morning, mischief, what have you been up to?”
What followed could only be described as high velocity chatter. Cid found the best approach was to try and float on the surface of it, picking up what seemed to be the important parts or the parts that would involve him handing a long apology and a large bag of gil over to Lady Charon. The key parts of today’s stream appeared to be “Clive” and “Story”.
Cid tried to mash those two words together like jigsaw pieces but the edges just didn’t seem to line up in any way that Cid recognised. “Clive read you a story?”
Mid gave him a look like he was a complete idiot. “No. Not Clive.”
Well, that made more sense at least. “Who did read you a story?”
Cid wouldn’t have thought it possible but Mid’s opinion of him seemed to lower even more judging from facial expressions. “Not Clive!”
Six year olds weren’t the most rational at the best of times, even Cid’s genius of a daughter. This was just like that earlier puzzle. Cid just had to figure out how to ask the question in Mid terms. “I know it was not Clive, sweetie. So who was it?”
Mid tilted her head at him and then giggled, planting a kiss on Cid’s cheek. “Daddy silly.” With that, she dashed off to where more mischief and disaster awaited, leaving Cid none the wiser.
***
It had been a fucker of a day. The bearers they’d hoped to rescue were two days dead before they even got there: one turned to stone and one beaten to death for grieving. Cid had had to hold himself back from murdering the lot of them, just stand there and sympathise with the owners for their losses. So expensive those human lives would be to replace.
It was late by the time they dragged themselves back to the hideaway and no-one was in the mood for talking. The Cursebreakers with him just raised hands in a farewell and slumped off to the barracks. Cid glanced at the steps towards his solar but the weight of the day felt too heavy to carry up there yet so he made his way into the Fat Chocobo instead. It would be closed now: Kenneth tucked away in bed but Cid could wash some of the day away at least.
He’d just finished pouring himself a pint when he noticed someone at the back table, half-hidden in shadows. They probably just wanted to be alone but Cid really needed some company at the moment so he trudged his way over. Once he was closer, he recognised the outline of Clive but it was too late to turn around now, at least without being rude.
Cid took a seat opposite and a long swig from his ale. “Hey.”
Blue eyes met his and then darted around as if they expected someone else to be here. Finding no-one, he uttered a “Hey” so quiet that Cid had to strain to hear it.
“Sorry, bad day. Not disturbing you, am I?” Cid should just make his excuses, trudge up to the solar but there was something niggling away at the back of his mind, a curiosity anchoring him in place.
“No.” Just as quiet. His face crinkled in concentration for a moment and then in what looked like disappointment. He leaned down to rest his chin against one palm, elbow resting on the table. The other hand played with some leftover liquid spilled on the table. “You, erm, wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” Cid said then almost bit his tongue in half. First time the lad actually makes an attempt at conversation and Cid shuts it down. He was too tired for this shit. “How about you tell me about your day?”
“Oh, I didn’t do much. Well, I guess we did a fair amount but most of it wasn’t me.” Must have been a busy day at the hideaway. Cid would have to catch up with Otto later. They didn’t chatter much after that, just sat in comfortable silence for a bit.
It was probably the first time that Cid could say he felt comfortable around Clive instead of the prickling feeling of something wrong. I mean, the lad was still a bit odd but at least this was an odd that Cid was more used to.
It was Cid that ended up being the first to leave. Setting his empty mug on the counter ready for Kenneth in the morning and bidding farewell. He paused at the foot of the steps, glancing back to the quiet table. “Sleep well, Clive.”
He thought he saw the man smile.
***
Over the next few days, Cid often spotted Clive sat by himself late at night in the Fat Chocobo. Cid resisted joining him, leaving the lad to the quiet peace he enjoyed.
At least he tried.
After another bad day, Cid found his boots carrying him to that table without real conscious thought. Clive glanced up at him and didn’t leave so Cid figured that was a good as a welcome.
Cid found himself speaking about the day, leaving out some of the worst details, just spilling details. There was something relaxing about this midnight Clive in a way that his daytime presence made Cid a bit tense.
One evening turned into many and it was every few days that Cid would wind up forgoing sleep in favour of quiet conversation and comfortable companionship in the corner of the Fat Chocobo. It didn’t seem to affect their day time hours as Clive was as cold and odd as usual.
***
Cid was at his usual post at the Fat Chocobo when he was the crowd of Cursebreakers bundle in, returning victorious he gathered from the back slaps and grins going on. Cid clicked his fingers over at Kenneth and ordered a round of ales to be sent over. He almost had a heart attack when he turned to find Clive stood right in front of him, looming.
“Afternoon, Clive. Good mission?” Cid kept his words normal, their daytime tone instead of the softer voice he used with midnight Clive.
“Are you available?”
Cid was surprised at the question, glancing up at the steps towards his solar to make sure no-one was waiting for him. “Aye, lad. Can make time for a chat if you want.”
Clive scowled and shook his head. “No.” He paused, chewing over some words and Cid felt like he could almost see little puffs of smoke coming out of his ears as his brain whirred away. “Are you available for a relationship?”
Cid’s brain stuttered. Much like many things that Clive said, this one just didn’t fit in place with everything else. Sure, Cid loved their midnight chats but that wasn’t enough for a relationship. There was clearly some damage there but Cid didn’t want to be Clive’s regret, not when there was a small kernel of him already hoping for something more.
“No, lad, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now…”
Cid didn’t get a chance to say anything more as Clive just raised a hand to cut him off. “That’s all I needed to know.” Cid had expected some kind of emotion on his face: disappointment, relief, anger. Instead it felt like Cid’s words had had no impact at all. Clive just spun on his heel and returned to his squad, taking a proffered ale and settling down at the table, slightly off to one side.
That midnight at the Fat Chocobo, Clive wasn’t there.
***
He avoided Clive after that.
Midnights were spent instead chewing his words over in his head, searching for a softer way to say things. Maybe he should have just said yes. They could take things slowly.
But it would have felt wrong.
Wouldn’t it?
Cid had never been so work-oriented as he threw himself into all the jobs that he should probably be doing most of the time. Otto was watching him more than usual, worry crinkling his brow. He’d crack soon enough and ask but for now, Cid enjoyed the distractions from everything Clive.
The lad wasn’t even that hard to avoid. He seemed to spend a lot of time out on missions with his Cursebreaker squad and he never made any move to approach Cid after that. Okay, maybe, Cid ducked hastily behind a few walls but that was entirely adult behaviour for avoiding conflict in the hideaway. Not that there’d be conflict. They were just two ordinary people living ordinary lives in the hideaway.
That made Cid’s heart hurt in his chest.
He hadn’t thought it could get worse.
It was a late evening and Cid was entertaining a glass of wine in danger of turning into a bottle while he finished off the stack of papers on his desk. There was a knock at his door. Cid dropped his pen, staggered over to the solar entrance and swung open the door.
“What? Oh, hi Clive.” Of course it was Clive.
Clive tilted his head to one side, his eyes then drifting down and back up again. “I hate you.”
Cid flinched back as if struck, one hand coming up to clutch at his chest.
When he looked up again, Clive was gone.
***
The industry of the past few days vanished in three little words.
Cid wasn’t a good man. He knew it. Good men didn’t require their friends to lose a son before they acted. Good men didn’t prop up a power mad king just for their own little share of power.
Cid just had some small hope that by the time the curse consumed him, he would have done a little to undo the damage of his earlier years. The way that the folks of the hideaway had looked at him like some kind of leader, like a man worth trusting, like a man worth bollocking when he fucked up had make him hope he was at least on the right path.
Clive could apparently still see that real him.
He had just about enough brain power left to arrange for Mid to stay with someone else before he sunk down into a wine bottle. A good man would have taken this as a spur to improve himself even further. Cid, at least for tonight, was not a good man.
Nor the next night.
It wasn’t looking good for a third night either until there was a crashing through his door in the early hours of morning. Otto was deceptively strong as he hauled Cid out of his room, down the stairs and tossed him into the laundry pools. Cid spluttered to the surface, probably looking as pathetic as he felt and with a hangover woken to fire from the cold.
“Was that necessary?” Cid spat another mouthful of water to the side and started hauling himself out of the water, only to be shoved back in with one thick hand.
“Apparently,” was all that Otto said, standing on the edge of the pool, ready to block any of Cid’s attempts to get out.
Cid settled in for treading water, his body already alcohol sore and tender. “So you decided to drown me?”
“Nah, you’ve been doing a good enough job of drowning yourself recently. This is a wake up.” Otto seemed to judge Cid dunked enough as he reached down, hauling Cid’s sopping body easily enough out of the water. “Right, food next.”
Cid tried to balk at that but Otto’s fist had wrapped in his tunic and was dragging him along. “Can’t I change?”
“No.” Cid was really getting sick of one word answers. Otto thumped him down to a seat in the Fat Chocobo, fortunately one of the ones slightly in the shadows but not the same table as where he’d sat with Clive. A couple of bowls of stew were dropped down on the table, Otto shoved a spoon into Cid’s hand and gestured to the bowl. “Eat.”
Cid’s stomach rumbled and he started to recall how little other than wine had been in his stomach recently. He tucked into the stew, letting the warmth of the food spread through his chilled body.
“I’ve been a bit of an idiot.” He reluctantly admitted.
“You’ve been a lot of an idiot,” Otto replied. “But that’s nothing new. This self-destructive spiral however…” Otto’s mouth screwed up in distaste and Cid didn’t think it was from the stew. “I haven’t been a great friend recently. I thought it was just a crush and you were getting over it.”
“I didn’t think it was anything.” Cid took a few more spoonfuls to let his mind think through things. “He’s just… Sometimes he’s nice to talk to.”
“He’s a bit odd,” Otto said.
“He’s very odd,” Cid agreed.
“I’ll do this again if you don’t sort yourself out.” Otto’s expression said that this was hurting him more than Cid.
Cid knew the threat was real.
***
Life got more or less back to normal after that. Cid would have been tempted to continue to wallow if not for Mid. It was hard to wallow with an energetic six year old around, especially one as likely to dismantle the hideaway if she was left unattended.
It was Mid’s bedtime and Cid was just tucking her into her bed when she reached up, pressing a little hand against Cid’s cheek. “Daddy sad?”
“Just a little bit, sweetie, and not with you, never with you.”
“Why?”
That was a complicated question. He tried to simplify it down to Mid terms. “Daddy has a friend that he thought was a very good friend but that friend doesn’t like Daddy anymore.”
Mid thought that over for a moment. “You mean Clive.”
It was that obvious? Cid sighed, “Yeah, I mean Clive.”
“Clive hates you,” Mid agreed, the words stung like claws coming from his own daughter. “That’s why you should come to book reading.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cid said softly. “Clive doesn’t want to see me.”
Mid rolled her eyes. He had hoped he had a few years left before she learnt that gesture. “Daddy is being silly again. It’s not Clive reading. Come to reading.”
“Daddy is being silly, is he? I’ll show you silly.” Cid ran his fingers along his daughter’s side, seeking out the particular tickling spot that got her little leg to kick up in the air. There!
“Noooo, Daddy, no,” Mid shrieked with delight, scrambling away with that grin on her face.
“No Daddy here. Only the monster.” Cid did his best roar impression and leapt over the bed.
Mid did not get to bed on time.
***
Cid’s plans hadn’t really been up to scratch recently. Taking his guidance from a six year old wasn’t the worst idea he could have done.
He knew when the kids tended to have reading time and he crept down the stairs and over to the room serving as a school room. The picture that greeted him was a squeeze to his heart, just utterly adorable.
Clive was sat at the table with a large story book spread on the table in front of him. He was also covered in kids. One perched on each knee, one scrambled across his back like a monkey and Mid herself pressed against his left side.
Clive was reading from the book, his voice more animated that Cid had heard in their little chats. It was one of those old plays with a noble hero and a dastardly villain. Clive appeared to be doing the voices and appropriate dramatic pauses as there was a dramatic gasp from the gaggle of children around him.
Cid found a spot to loiter out of Clive’s eyeline, just content to listen.
This was the Clive he was falling for. This lad so engaged in telling the best story, that had the children hanging off his every word. Bearer children were often slow to trust but something in them must recognise a kindred soul as they sprawled about him as if he was just a part of the furniture.
When Mid shyly smiled up at Clive and buried her head into his side, Cid felt a terrible burgeoning of hope, imagination of an impossible future.
He had hoped to sneak away before the book finished but the climax caught him by surprise as did the deviousness of his daughter. Mid tangled her fingers into Clive’s hand and dragged him over to where Cid had thought he was mostly concealed. “You know my daddy?” Mid said in her sweetest, most innocent voice, traitorous little whelp. Not Clive reading, eh?
Before Cid could even think about chiding her, she’d dashed off with the rest of children in some chasing game that looked like pure chaos to Cid.
“Sorry about Mid, she’s a lass that knows her own mind.” Cid said, feeling a bit awkward with just the two of them left in the room.
“I didn’t realise she was yours,” Clive said, eyes down at his own toes. “She’s a wonder.”
Cid felt the warmth of that. “Aye, she is.” He let that settle for a moment, feeling a hope that Clive hadn’t make excuses and left yet. “Look, lad, I’m sorry for upsetting you, it wasn’t my intention.” He curled a hand around Clive’s chin, gently lifting it up so their eyes met.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Clive sounded hurt and his face reflected that, a wet gleam in his deep blue eyes.
Cid’s hand meandered from Clive’s chin, along his jaw and up to lightly tangle in his soft hair. “Our last two conversations didn’t go all that well, did they?”
Clive’s beautiful face crinkled in confusion and then something seemed to dawn on him as he just smiled softly. “Oh, yeah, I guess.” He tried to dip his head bashfully again but Cid applied gentle pressure to keep him looking up.
Something quickened in Clive’s eyes and suddenly Cid was being pressed back against his hiding spot, Clive’s body pressing against him all hard lines and muscles. Clive’s mouth pressed against his and Cid barely had time to feel the tingle against his lips, not enough time to respond before Clive was pulling away.
Cid blinked and Clive was gone. He brought a hand up to his mouth, feeling the slight dampness against his mouth where Clive’s lips had rested, feeling a chill against his body, the emptiness now that Clive had gone.
Well, now he was really confused.
***
It took three more midnights of waiting cold and lonely in the Fat Chocobo before Clive made another appearance. He appeared to be waiting for Cid as his head came up almost immediately as soon as Cid placed his first footstep through the threshold.
Cid walked over before Clive could vanish again, tangling his hand with the other man’s. A physical anchor, just in case.
“Hey,” Cid said.
“Hey,” Clive smiled back. “So, erm, can we talk?”
Cid bloody hoped so. He’d been spinning the events in his mind. He liked to think he had a good mind but there was nothing he’d managed to make sense of yet. “I’d like that. Here or I know a quiet spot.”
“Quiet spot,” Clive said, standing but not untangling his hand. He allowed himself to be led through the hideaway, up the stairs and onto a smaller staircase that led up onto the roof. Not many people had realised it was there, fewer of them were brave enough to risk the old stonework. Cid liked it up here though. Another good place to watch what he’d built. A quiet place to think.
Cid took a seat on the blanket he kept up here, resting his back against the wall of the hideaway and gestured to Clive to join him. Clive sat, his leg not close enough to touch but close enough that Cid could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“So?” Cid asked.
“I’m a Dominant.”
That was not what Cid expected. That was so far from what he expected that Cid raised a finger to his ear and gave it a good wiggle. It was a difficult sentence to mistake for anything else. “Eh?”
“I’ve known it since I was fifteen. There was, a bad thing happened and I hurt some people, I killed some people, I killed my brother when Ifrit emerged. He’s not bad, he was just confused and scared. You understand, right?”
That Cid did. The first time that Ramuh emerged had been as a lightning storm of epic proportions. Only the good fortune that he was out in the wilderness and Ramuh’s own calm nature ensuring that nobody got hurt. Cid just nodded, not wanting to interrupt the flow with words.
“Yeah. It… My mother sold me after that as a branded and things weren’t great, they were very not great.” Cid couldn’t resist then, shifting to bridge the gap between them to wrap an arm around the lad and give what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. “My eikon, Ifrit, he… he found a way to protect me. I could just step back and he’d step forward and it didn’t hurt so much. Then it just got easier to let Ifrit step forward more and more and I could just stay back.”
It took a while for those words to seep through into Cid’s mind. Oh. OH! “You were Ifrit? I mean, most of the other times?” Not Clive was reading, of course, Mid had been telling him the truth all along. Well, except that apparently Not Clive was the real Clive all along.
Clive nodded, bumping his head against Cid’s shoulder as he did. “Yeah, he’s good, just doesn’t always get people things and he can be a bit protective.”
“You don’t hate me then?” The question burned its way out of Cid before he could hold it back.
Clive’s breath hitched and he turned side on so he was facing Cid. “I… No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”
Cid angled himself to match Clive, lifting both hands up to cradle his face before placing a ghost light kiss on his lips, leaning to rest his forehead against Clive’s. He stayed there, just breathing and feeling Clive’s breath before he reluctantly pulled back a little.
“So how much were you aware when you were Ifrit?”
Clive nosed forward, his cheek brushing against Cid’s own, pressing light kisses along his jaw and down his neck. It was distracting, almost distracting enough, but Cid pressed his thumb a little firmer along the boy’s jaw to draw him back to the moment. “Lad?”
Clive sighed and drew back, “It depended. It’s a bit like being in the Fat Chocobo when a conversation is going on. Sometimes it was more like I was at the same table, just not quite in the conversation. Sometimes it was more like being at a back table, picking up snippets but not really everything. Sometimes I was in a separate room and there was nothing.”
Cid rewarded the lad with a soft kiss or at least what was intended to be a soft kiss. Clive had other intentions as the lad’s hand curved around Cid’s head, pushed them together and he pressed their mouths together. It was, well, a bit awkward to be honest. Their noses bumped more than once, teeth clashed and managed to tilt their heads to the same angle at once. Cid drew back for a moment, seeing a shimmering saliva trail still connecting their two mouths. Clive’s chest was heaving, his eyes blown wide with just a faint halo of deep blue around his pupil.
Cid pushed forward again and this time they just fit, the angle were perfect and a buzz spread from Cid’s mouth down his throat and expanded his chest. It wasn’t frantic, not yet, just a slow exploration of each other’s mouth. Cid was just pondering what to do about the frustrating distance between their bodies when Clive took action, swinging his leg over so he sat straddling Cid’s hips, bodies pressed down and against each other.
Cid groaned, the delicious pressure not quite enough. He hooked his hands into the boy’s knees, tugging them closer so they fitted tightly against each other. Cid had to still his hips from bucking up, rubbing himself against the body against him. He distracted himself by disengaging his mouth, kissing his way down Clive’s jaw and fixating on his neck, sucking a possessive mark there.
Clive made such wonderful noises. Little gasps, breathy moans, whines when Cid found the right spot to suck. He wanted to see this man fall apart beneath him, above him. To wake up next to him.
Cid felt his brain and his cock running each from him and forced himself to pull back. That provoked another little whine, almost enough to shatter Cid’s willpower. It took several deep breaths for Cid’s racing heart to settle and he watched the lad above him, gently stroking a thumb along his jaw as he waited for him to compose himself once more.
“Hey,” Cid said once the moment was right. “Not that I’m not loving this but I have to ask, lad, how much good experience do you have? I mean, as you?”
The delicate blush pinking across the lad’s cheeks and the tips of his ears was answer enough even before the words. “Not much.” A breath. “None.”
“Good lad,” Cid praised. “You deserve something special and it’s been a bit of a tough night, eh? I don’t want this to be something you regret.”
Clive whined again and there was a little mischievous glint in his eye as if he knew what the sound did to Cid. Cid couldn’t wait to start unpeeling the different layers of this amazing man in front of him. He had a feeling his willpower was about to be sorely tested. Clive rested himself back, a warm weight against Cid’s knees. “We can still kiss, right?”
“Fuck yes,” Cid hauled Clive forward again, mouth devouring Clive’s own. There was something a bit more desperate now. As if Cid’s brain had accepted that this was all he could get for now and was damn determined to wring every bit of pleasure out of it, both for himself and for the gorgeous lad who had begun grinding his hips in delicious circles against Cid’s.
It was Clive who broke away from the kiss this time, echoing Cid’s movements as he kissed down Cid’s stubbled jaw and sucking his own mark into Cid’s neck, a mirror to his own. Greagor’s second rate tits, this lad was a fast learner. The things Cid could teach him. Cid bucked up against the delicious pressure over him, his hands shifting down to Clive’s hips, pushing them down so they were in the perfect spot to rub against each other. Little sparks shot up and down Cid’s spine and he knew he was close.
“Fuck,” Cid hissed out beneath desperate breaths, seeking Clive’s mouth out with his own and pressing them together, panting breaths mingling together.
“Cid,” Clive said his name like a prayer. “Please.”
“What do you want, love? Anything you want.” Cid was humping uncontrollably against Clive now, that friction just perfect.
“You,” Clive gasped out and that was enough to send Cid over the edge, bucking up and feeling the damp flood as he came in his own trousers, gasping his undoing into Clive’s mouth. Clive bore down against Cid, seeking his own release that came not long after Cid’s own, judging by the stuttering of his hips and the blown out gasps.
He sagged down to rest against Cid, almost curled up against his chest. His head resting against Cid’s shoulder, sweaty strands of hair glued to his forehead and little snuffling breaths huffed against his neck.
Cid couldn’t help the fond twang of his heart, brushing the lad’s hair back from his face to a sleepy mumbled protest. “Lad, come on, we can’t sleep here. Not sure my knees can take it.”
Clive just shifted his body, each little movement sending jolts into Cid’s sensitive body. He appeared to be making himself cosy. Cid was going to have to be the adult here. Any moment.
Cid didn’t even notice when he fell asleep.
***
Cid woke up a strange warmth, a comfort and happiness that he hadn’t known for a long while. It took a moment for his eyes to blearily open. He was still propped up against the wall but Clive had slid down during the night so he was curled up against the side of Cid’s leg, head pillowed on a thigh and arms hugging around Cid’s leg like it was some kind of teddy bear.
Judging by the light, it was still the early hours of the morning, just a few sunbeams peeking over the horizon. There were a couple of people out and about below but enough time for Cid to indulge himself a little and sitting here with Clive curled up against him felt like the finest indulgence of all.
He combed his fingers through the lad’s hair, looking especially dishevelled after a night of sleeping rough. Little rumbling grumpy noises emitted from Cid’s slumbering partner, followed by a head buried itself further against Cid’s thigh, hot breath coming dangerously close to an area that would not lead to Cid getting any work done today.
“Morning sleepyhead.” Cid whispered down.
He received only grumbles in response and a thought wormed its way into Cid’s head. “You are Clive, right?”
The grumbling increased in volume and Clive lifted his head up, eyes little more than slits of blue. One or both of them was not a morning person. “S’me,” Clive said finally, his voice foggy.
“Good,” Cid curled a hand in his hair, bring him up just a soft morning kiss, regardless of their breath. “Definitely need a way to tell the difference.”
Clive just muttered something nonsensical, curling up against Cid’s side and pressing his face into his neck.
Cid couldn’t hold back a fond laugh. “Sorry, love. There are things I need to get on with today but I’m hoping maybe I can see you tonight?”
Clive’s head lifted at that and he made what Cid could only describe as a purr. Cid would take that as agreement. Cid needed to get on, not just because of the uncomfortable stickiness in his trousers, but also because he had some perfect plans to make for tonight.
***
Cid would swear that Otto had it out for him, some revenge for his behaviour, if he hadn’t known that Otto had no sway after the Cursebreaker schedules. His grand plan had to go back on his shelf after a hurried message that Clive and his squad (Well, Ifrit and his squad) were headed out on an emergency mission.
The problem with having made a perfect plan and then having some extra time was that it gave Cid too much time to refine and expand the plan. Cid wasn’t going to go crazy: it was the lad’s first time, at least the first that mattered, so there was no point in overwhelming him.
Cid scribbled out a couple of lines but then added a couple more. He wasn’t sure how long the squad would be out which limited the options for special orders, beyond anything that Cid could face asking Charon to order in.
Keeping it simple, that was the aim. At least that was the aim in plan 7.4.202.FINAL.REVISED which was where Cid had got to after four frustrating days. He’d been banished from asking Dorys for any news.
Cid was just about to start on the next revision of the plan when there was a gentle knock at the door. Cid’s heart lurched up and he raced it to the door, throwing it open. The evening dark had fallen leaving the figure at the door to be lit with a golden halo. Cid almost seized up. An issue Clive didn’t have as he surged forward, mouth locking onto Cid’s own.
He smelt of damp earth and some of the bath oils, his damp hair curling against his forehead. His usual armour was gone leaving him dressed in a simple leather trousers and a plain white tunic, gaping at the chest to expose an amazing chest.
Cid barely even noticed he was being walked backwards until the bed hit the back of his knees and he tumbled backwards, drawing Clive with him until his back was against the headboard and Clive was crouching over him, their mouths never having detached. He wasn’t quite sure how much time passed and Cid almost felt like this could happily last forever, just making out with Clive until time ended.
He did just have to check though. “Clive?”
Clive sighed, finally drawing back with a fond look and then flopping to his back beside Cid. “Yes, it’s me. I just missed you. Maybe a lot.”
“Not just you,” Cid said, hoping he didn’t sound as strained as he felt. The details of his plan had fled like dandelion clocks in a spring breeze, just leaving scattered traces of thoughts. “You still interested, I guess?”
Clive rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. Cid did likewise so they’d be face to face. There was rosy blush just beginning to paint the tips of Clive’s cheeks and Cid wanted to press his lips against it, see if it was as warm as it looked.
“I do,” Clive said. “I just, I was always not really in the room for that. I’ve heard the basics but...” That blush spread further across his cheeks.
Cid tried to hide how that affected him but he had a feeling he was doing a bad job, especially with his dick straining against the confines of his trousers like it was trying to raise an eager hand in the air. “That’s good, only good memories from here.” Cid moved to hover over Clive, knees boxing in his thighs, “Step one is to get you out of those clothes.”
Clive’s hands moved to lift off his tunic but Cid caught his wrists in a light grip, pulling them away to the sides. “Let me,” he whispered. Cid shifted back to his haunches, running his hands under the bottom of the tunic and starting to push it upwards. His hands brushed against the smooth muscle and Cid lowered his head to lavish each revealed area with kisses, paying special attention to the thin and thick scars revealed.
He took his time, revealing skin inch by inch, lavishing each patch of skin with his attention, collecting the little noises and gasps that Clive was making above him, especially the little hitches of breath as Cid found somewhere sensitive. Higher and higher until more of Clive’s gorgeous chest was revealed. Cid latched his mouth around the left nipple and sucked, rewarded with a twitch and a soft keen.
“Look at you,” Cid whispered, rubbing his thumb over the nipple until it sharpened into a little peak until he lathed it with his tongue. “Do you even know how gorgeous you are? How precious?” His words seemed to spark almost as much reaction as his tongue and Cid shifted over to the right, paying it as much attention as its twin.
“Raise your arms.” Cid worked the tunic upwards, hands chasing around the thick muscle on those shoulders, thumb rubbing and massaging the muscle. He pushed the tunic up further, lifting it higher over his head until all that was left was the tunic tangling around his wrists, Clive’s arms stretched upwards above his head. Greagor’s arse, that was a picture. One that’d be stuck in Cid’s head for a while.
Part of him wanted to leave them there but his common sense prevailed. Not for a first time, at least not yet. He untangled each wrist from the tunic, pulling the hand to his face and lathing his tongue along those long, dexterous fingers, sucking them gently into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks around them.
He needed a bit of time to calm down before unwrapping the second part or this would be over far too soon. Clive seemed to be in a similar state. Cid just slid his fingers along his side, coming back to cup his face and exchange lazy kisses.
“Doing alright?” Cid whispered against his lips.
“That depends on how long you keep teasing me,” Clive growled in response.
“Shh, just let me take care of you.” Sufficiently back under control, Cid crawled down Clive’s body and began pulling on the fastenings of those leather trousers. Almost as soon as he undid the top, Clive’s half-hard cock bobbed up to meet him and Cid had to hastily squeeze himself to regain some control. That fiendish lad wasn’t even wearing underwear.
Cid ignored the main course for the moment, the tantalising dribble of precum beading at the top and focused on pulling the leather trousers down. It turned out to be a lot harder to gradually push those down, the tight material clinging to Clive’s legs in the same way that Cid wanted to. He ended up taking it a lot faster than he planned but made up for it by kissing his way back up, ankle to along the shapely calves, along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, just breathing hotly over Clive’s swelling cock for a moment.
“Cid,” came the whine from the head of the bed and Cid smirked, bypassing the cock once again to lathe his tongue over Clive’s balls. “Cid!” Cid took pity on the lad, pulling back his teeth and sinking down over the lad, taking him right down to the root.
That, as it turned out, was a mistake.
Clive bucked up out of sheer instinct, his cock banging against Cid’s gag reflex and suddenly Cid was falling backwards, coughing desperately.
“Fuck,” Clive surged forward, lifting Cid’s chin and peering worriedly into his eyes.
Cid tried to reassure him but his eyes were watering too hard and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath right now. He felt the bed shift once and then again, then Clive’s strong arms around him, pulling him back against his chest as a mug of water was pressing to his mouth. Cid drank greedily but swallowed cautiously, letting his throat calm down.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, Cid.” Clive’s free hand was stroking down his side while the other still held the mug up.
Cid finally regained enough breath to speak though he could hear his own voice rougher than normal. “Not your fault, lad. I should’ve known better.” See, this was why Cid shouldn’t be allowed to plan. He felt a laugh escape.
Clive made a confused noise at first and then his chest began to shake as well, his own laughter escaping. “Founder, I wasn’t expecting that.”
Cid just let himself relaxed back against Clive, little laughs still chuffing his chest. His own cock, wilted slightly after the choking, began to perk up again, reminding him that there were still matters to attend to. Perhaps with less planning this time.
“You good to keep going?” Cid asked, turning around to crouch over Clive once more.
Clive’s eager nod was answer enough.
Cid leaned over to the drawer by his bed, pulling out the pot of oil. He saw Clive watching it and a confused look crossed his face as Cid pressed the pot into his own hand. “Want you to get yourself ready for me. Want to watch it.”
“I… I don’t know what to do.”
Cid felt his smile grow and he leaned close to Clive’s ear, “That’s okay. I’ll talk you through it.” Cid shifted back, kneeling back between Clive’s legs. “Now raise your knees up, spread your legs apart as much as you can and angle your pelvis up a bit.”
Clive tried to copy the instructions and Cid offered a warm hand in guidance, helping him into the perfect position. Not just because Cid could see the pucker of his arse, soft and furled right now.
“Now open up the pot and pour it out over your hand, slick it up as much as possible. All four fingers.”
Clive’s eyes took on a slightly devilish glint as he obeyed, slicking up his hand but seemingly to pay particular attention to rubbing and smearing the oil around his fingers. Cid’s neglected dick twitched in his trousers and Cid bit back a whine of his own. That only seemed to make Clive grin.
“That’s enough. Now press back with just one finger for now. Push your way in, past the muscle, let yourself relax around it. No rush for now.”
Clive obeyed the instruction so beautifully, his fingers circling that gorgeous furl, circling around before starting to sink in, disappearing up to the knuckle in and then further.
“Look at you,” Cid breathed. “That’s it, just like that. Let it sink in, get yourself nice and slick for me.” The finger slipped further in until it’d almost completely disappeared. “That’s it. Look at you taking your finger. You imagining that’s me? Move in out and in a bit, start stretching yourself for me.”
Cid yanked his attention back from the glistening hole and up to Clive’s face, the lad was biting his lip so hard that he’d leave tooth prints behind. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. I want to hear everything.”
Clive unclenched his jaw, letting out a whine.
“Like that, sweetheart. You ready for two fingers? Push them in gently now. Scissor them out like this.” Cid spread his own fingers in demonstration. “Stretch yourself out nicely for me. That’s a good boy.”
Clive’s chest hitched with every word of praise and Cid was addicted already, to those little noises, to the way he moved.
“How you feeling, love? Tell me.”
“So good. Founder, wish it was you. Want you, Cid.”
“Just a bit more, love. Add a third finger now. Make sure you still got plenty of the oil, can always add more.” Cid grabbed the fastenings of his own trousers and underwear, pushing them down and kicking them off the bed. He caught the gasp of breath and Clive’s eyes fixed on his own cock. Well, it was only fair to put on a bit of a show too.
Cid slicked his own fingers up with the oil and began oiling up his cock, hands loosely circling around the base and up to the tip before flicking a thumb over the crown. He had to rein himself back a bit or this’d be over far too quickly.
He liked to think he provoked some of the quickening eagerness as Clive’s long, clever fingers thrust in and out of his slick hole, twisting and spreading and fuck, Cid’s patience could only last so long.
“Such a good job, love, you’ve done a great job.” Cid lifted Clive’s hand away, pulling his knees higher up to make sure the angle was good. “This might feel a bit much at first but I’m gonna make it amazing for you.”
“Yes, in me.” Clive breathed, pushing his greedy ass back.
Fuck. Cid surged forward, his arms resting either side of Clive’s head as he began to sheathe himself. “Oh fuck, you’re so warm. So warm and tight around me.” It was torture to press so slowly forward, waiting until he felt Clive relax a little before pressing onwards.
Clive smiled dazedly up at him. “Ifrit is an eikon of fire.” The smirk was wiped off his face as Cid finally bottomed out, only to start immediately to pull back and began to slide back in, searching for that spot which Clive didn’t manage to find with his own fingers.
He knew he found it when Clive arched off the bed and let out a wail. Clive’s eyes locked on his and there was a lick of fire around that gorgeous blue that Cid didn’t think was just his imagination. “More,” Clive growled.
Cid paused mid-slide, “Still Clive?”
Clive, hopefully, growled a bit more, calves curling up to try and press Cid from behind, forcing him to move. When that didn’t work, he just keened softly. “Yes, still Clive. Founder damn you, move.”
Cid felt like that was permission to pick up the pace. The slide was easier now and he began to snap his hips properly, fucking hard and deep into Clive, angling to hit that spot until Clive was a gasping mess below him. It still wasn’t enough. “Fuck, look how you take me. Feel so fucking good. Want to stay here forever. Never let you out of my bed.”
“Yes,” Clive whimpered, grabbing his own thighs to pull himself more open, giving Cid that angle to press in deeper. “Want to feel you, make you my other safe place.”
That was it. Cid’s brain short-circuited as his thrusts sped up and he finally came deep into that infernal warmth, just about remembering to wrap his slick fist around Clive’s cock, tugging the lad in time with his final thrusts. He still finished before Clive but it was a close thing.
Cid pulled out with a wet sound and resisted the temptation to just flop over Clive and stay there. He reluctantly pushed himself upwards, his knees protesting the reaction activity. He caught a soft noise from the bed and glanced over to see Clive watching him with damp eyes. Aw, fuck. “Hey, s’alright lad. Just getting a cloth to clean us up. I’ll be coming right back.”
He could feel the lad’s eyes on him as he quickly grabbed a cloth and damped it down before returning to the bed, pulling Clive to rest against him as he wiped him off. “See, lad, told you I was coming back. Just a bit of clean up and we can cuddle as long as we like.”
Clive turned around to face Cid, burying his face into Cid’s neck with little sobs hitching. It was enough to terrify Cid. He stroked a hand down the lad’s back, fingers bumping down each vertebrae. “Hey, lad, it’s alright. What’s wrong?”
The noise Clive said was something between a laugh and a sob which was slightly reassuring. Cid just carried on cleaning what he could reach, letting Clive shake against him and murmuring softly to him.
Cleaned up enough, Cid tossed the rag away to be tomorrow’s problem and settled properly on the bed, pulling Clive into a proper cuddle and tugging the covers around them. “Hey, sweetheart, just get yourself cosy. I’m not going anywhere. You did so good, you were so amazing. Just stay with me, alright? You are safe here, I promise.”
The sobs slowed into just breathing and Cid was a little worried that Clive’d just fall asleep without them talking but fortunately Clive’s head lifted from the little patch of territory on Cid’s shoulder he’d laid claim to and resting onto the pillow, facing Cid.
“There you are, love,” Cid smiled, reaching a hand to brush back a damp lock of hair. “Now, you alright?”
Clive nodded and blushed a bit. “Sorry, I guess I panicked you a bit.”
“Just a bit,” Cid agreed. “But it’s alright. It can be pretty intense, eh?”
“Pretty wonderful,” Clive murmured and Cid felt his ego perk up a bit at that. “Just a lot. You said some things and…” Clive’s voice trailed off. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Sounds like it does.” Cid leaned forward to press his lips against Clive’s again, “I do tend to talk a lot. Don’t tend to say things I don’t mean. What in particular?”
“Staying.”
Cid felt his breath catch. “I meant it. This, us, it’s not a one time thing. Okay?”
Clive’s answering smile could have lit up the blackest heart. “Mmm, Ifrit doesn’t hate you anymore.”
That was good, that was… that was odd. “Wait, Clive, where was he during this? At the table or in the room or..”
The only answer Cid got was a soft snore.