The peaceful quiet affection between Vincent and Cid was not to last long. Fate had done her part, and was sitting beck to watch, her plan had become so much more complicated in its simplicity: Cid would fall in love with a man he would never have, and Vincent would get his wish to split passionate and companionate love between both sexes to feel safe.
Once wish granted, one vow broken, three lives changed. Soon to be four. Then later to be hundreds.
But for now there were just two. Two men, lying in bed, intending nothing more than comforting touch, seeking love, but not passion, but sharing more than intended. They shared something that broke the red string that connected them to each other.
They shared a dream.
For Cid, it was sketchy, sporadic. It came in flickers, like on a TV with bad reception.
For Vincent it had been on a TV with bad reception. The reception never mattered. What he had seen had been a videotape. Hojo wanted to know what would happen if he showed it to his victim. The blank expression Vincent held for days—even during repeats of the event Hojo had done and recorded—was not what Hojo had had in mind. Still, the very fact that Vincent knew they were being videotaped, and most likely watched by others was something Hojo wanted.
This wasn’t on videotape. Ever since he’d learned he was being watched by an uncaring camera he had imagined an uncaring camera crew behind it. He had thought of Hojo sitting at his desk, bored and holding his head on his fist, editing the films.
It was hardly the worst of what Hojo had done to him; he still had both arms back then.
Hundreds of thousands of eyes were watching him. Even if they were not seeing it now, they’d see it soon, and no one would ever come to help. These intangible invisible watchers would be entertained. They’d be pleased. Just as Hojo had enjoyed bringing his hand down on Vincent’s bare flesh, they had all enjoyed watching it and would never make a move to stop it.
Both naked save for the black cuffs on his wrists, the chain looped around the bedpost.
Balanced on Hojo’s knee as he brought his hand down forcefully enough to leave red marks on Vincent’s rear end, enough to cause the bruises to turn purple and brown the next day, there was nothing Vincent could do to stop it. All he ever did was make tiny pained noises at each blow and whimper when Hojo stopped and took the chain off the bedpost to turn Vincent over and made him sit up.
Still on the man’s lap, Vincent’s expression was blank resignation as he was eased onto Hojo, the chains swung over Hojo’s neck and under one shoulder.
Only a few seconds after hearing the cries of pain Vincent let out at each brutal thrust, Cid woke up panting. Another few seconds and Vincent woke up. At the movement in the bed, Nanaki woke up.
All three looked at each other.
Cid reached to touch Vincent’s hair, something Vincent had let him do after the incident with the rocket. It was meant to be a soothing gesture, something to put the pilot at peace, and Vincent had found the feel of a finger slowly going through his locks and carefully undoing tangles a pleasant experience.
Vincent, however, shot backwards, toppling off the edge of the bed. He kept scrambling backwards; his gaze fixed on Cid.
"Here, come on," Cid said, offering his hand to Vincent.
Vincent just shook his head and backed up more. Nanaki slowly looked from one man to the other, wondering what exactly he had slept through and had failed to protect Vincent from.
Cid realized then that they had shared the same dream. He knew because of the way Vincent looked at him. After he knew Vincent was truly afraid of him, he watched to see that distinct gleam in his to know what it looked like and tried to keep it away.
Vincent still felt naked from the dream and seeing Cid’s hand reaching for him made him fear it would happen again. He backed into the wall and looked away, balling up with his legs in front of him and his arms around them.
That was what he did when Aeris crossed the line with Vincent in bed. When her hand fell the wrong way on him, when he didn’t feel like being touched, when his pajamas were still in the wash and she had convinced him to get in the bed anyway only to have him panic soon afterwards.
Cid had done the same mistakes, and later learned from both Aeris and Nanaki about them.
The dream had been a nightmare for Cid, and the only reason Vincent would be acting like this now would be to have seen something at least similar.
He was too tired to do anything. He was tired of something new to scare Vincent happening. He was tired of it having nothing to do with him. He was tired of there never being anything right to say.
"Can you figure this out?" he asked Nanaki. He didn’t need anything figured out, really, but it just wasn’t polite to ask a completely different species to deal with your own traumatic love life, explicitly at least.
Nanaki stretched, emphasizing his feline side before showing the more canine side with his loyalty.
Meanwhile Cid got a few words in before going back t sleep: "Make sure you get some sleep, Vince. I don’t care where, as long as you’re comfortable."