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sephirthoughts · 6 months ago

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Vincent's New Kid JUST DROPPED CH. 4 Nero meets his Brother's Boyfriend I Guess?

The dad!vincent-verse keeps growing. This one finally has some well-earned Cid and Vincent time.

Mature rating this time, for non-explicit sex

NERO HE'S SUCH A PRETTY BABY LOOK AT HIM

Beautiful. So goddamn beautiful. Like a painting in a shrine, or one of them fancy poems about plum blossoms in snow, or something. Like one of those things that makes you realize you’re dreaming cause no way could anything real be that perfect, and it breaks the spell and you wake up. Only when you wake up, there’s that black-haired beauty you dreamed of, laying on the pillow right next to you.

Every time he looked at this celestial creature who for some ungodly reason had consented to be his own, Cid’s chest tightened up and his throat ached with emotion. He loved this man so much, he felt it physically, as a tender, aching wound, in his heart. Not just love, but worship, devotion, fervent adoration—an almost religious zealotry. The kind that inspires men to lay down their very lives in service of the object of their idolatry.

Vincent stirred and sat up, on the edge of the bed. Cid lay still, watching, as hair like a waterfall of ink, cascaded down an ivory-white back, crisscrossed with deep, ragged scars. Sinewy shoulder muscles flexed under the translucent skin, as a long, slender, white hand and a gnarled, black hand with razor-sharp claws, reached back and drew the heavy, glossy hair into a loose ponytail.

“You’re staring,” Vincent’s deep, honey-smooth voice said, over his shoulder.

“I can’t help myself, baby. You’re as pretty as a goddamn picture,” Cid defended (unfortunately, his spoken vocabulary was not quite the match of the poetic transcendence in his internal ruminations).

“Hmph,” Vincent scoffed, as Cid sat up behind him, with his thighs outside Vincent’s, and slipped his calloused hands onto a waist so narrow, they could almost encompass it.

“I mean it, sugar dumpling, you’re prettier’n the prettiest girl I ever seen,” Cid insisted, coiling his arms around him. “Prettier’n a flower. Or like—one of them birds with the long-ass feathers.”

“Peacock.”

Cid had meant a certain crimson, long-tailed bird he’d seen once, but he didn’t know what it was called, and didn’t feel like dwelling on it. “Mhm, a peacock.”

Vincent’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle, then his head lolled forward and he gave a little gasp, shuddering at the hot breath on the back of his neck, the soft lips and scratchy stubble, as Cid dropped kisses like flower petals, on his pronounced spine and shoulder blades, both of which he was deeply self-conscious, but Cid appeared to enjoy immensely.

Much like his scars. Those knotted, twisted lightning bolts, that shot through every inch of this ruined hide, as if his body had been torn apart and stitched back together, many times over. Which it quite literally had. That he’d been in a state of forced consciousness for most of it, was a secret he told to no one. Least of all his adoring husband.

Feigning reluctance, he gradually allowed himself to be coaxed back into bed, tumbled amongst the sheets, pressed down beneath the weight of a solid, muscular body, taken with a heat and passion that were astonishing to him, even after all this time.

He arched his long spine, lips wet and parted, half-lidded crimson eyes hazy and lust-drunk, his black claws cutting a bloody trail across Cid’s brawny, golden-tanned back, with his shuddering release. Cid covered his mouth with fervent kisses and spilled inside him, saying ‘I love you, I love you,’ over and over, against his lips.

The sun poured liquid gold between the curtains, as they lingered in each other’s arms, basking in these precious moments of tenderness and joy, amid the slings and arrows of life. This was a luxury they could afford, now, since the care of their infant daughter had been almost entirely assumed, by the most dangerous man either of them had ever encountered.

The morning was growing late, when the two of them finally emerged from their bedroom.

“Good morning, father. Stepfather,” Sephiroth greeted them, rising as they entered the living room. “There is fresh coffee in the pot and I’ve kept your breakfast warm in the oven.”

“Mm, thank you Sephiroth,” Vincent yawned, turning toward the kitchen.

“How’s my little princess, this fine mornin’?” Cid inquired of the black-haired infant, who was in her play swing, drooling all over a ring of brightly-colored teething beads.

“Ba-baaaa,” she chirped, kicking her chubby legs, as he lifted her from the swing.

“Stepfather, I’d like permission to take my brother to the grocery store, today,” Sephiroth said to Cid. “I think it would be good for him.”

“Uh…Vinnie’s the one in charge, here. You don’t gotta ask my permission,” Cid said, confusedly. “Speakin’ of your brother, where is that little fucker?”

“Fuh guh,” Ollie repeated, drooling exuberantly.

“Sh—hey!” Cid whispered to her. “Don’t repeat words papa says, like that, or he’ll get in trouble with daddy!”

“Dadadadaaa,” she conceded.

“Nero hasn’t been feeling well,” Sephiroth said. “Please, excuse his rudeness.”

“Tch. I’m feeling fine. Excuse yourself,” a soft, slightly hoarse voice retorted, from the hallway arch.

“Wee-woo!” Ollie announced, as the black-haired, crimson-eyed young man slunk into the room.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, sunshine,” Cid said irritably. “What brings you to the land of the livin’?”

“Your charming manners, of course,” Nero sneered, till a big hand grabbed him by the back of the neck, giving him a start.

“Apologize to our stepfather, and speak respectfully to him, from now on,” Sephiroth said, with a placid smile.

“He’s not my fucking—ah!” Nero cried out, grimacing in Sephiroth’s iron grip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sir!”

“Wee-woo!” Ollie added, for good measure.

“That’s your second elder brother, mei-mei,” Sephiroth told her. “You can call him er-ge.”

“Ah-guh! Ah-guh guh guh,” she burbled, leaning forward in Cid’s arms toward Nero, who shrunk back at the sight of the slobbering little gremlin, who was grasping at him with its slimy paws.

“What’s going on in here? Is everything alright?” Vincent asked, as he entered with two mugs of coffee.

“I was just instructing my brother regarding how to properly address our stepfather,” Sephiroth, whose arm was now around Nero’s shoulders, explained.

“About that. You don’t gotta do all that ‘stepfather’ and ‘sir’ shit,” Cid put in awkwardly, accepting one of the mugs from Vincent, and then holding it away from Ollie, who immediately tried to get her fingers into it. “Specially since…ya know. You and me are the same age.”

“Age has little to do with courtesy. Your position as our father’s husband demands respect, from us, as his children. However, if it makes you uncomfortable, please tell us what you would prefer to be called.”

“Cid’s fine. Just no more of that sir business. A family ain’t a military unit.”

“You married a man the same age as your son?” Nero smirked, at Vincent. “Exemplary.”

“Was that sarcasm, little brother?” Sephiroth asked.

“No, no!” Nero answered hastily. “I was simply congratulating…our father…on his good fortune in marriage.”

His voice betrayed a little tremor of disgust, as he pronounced the words ‘our father’ but Sephiroth let it pass. At that moment, the front door opened, and a young man with inexplicably buoyant golden-blonde hair, and big, bright, mako-blue eyes entered. He stopped short, seeing the entire family gathered in the living room.

“Hey, everyone. I’m here to—what the fuck!” he exclaimed, doing an actual double-take at what appeared to him to be two Vincents. “Who is that guy?? Why does he look exactly like Vincent?!”

“Maaaamaaaaa! Mamamamamaaa!” Ollie shrieked joyously, writhing and kicking her little legs, in an earnest attempt to propel herself from Cid’s arms to Cloud’s.

“Mama?” Nero said, arching a sharp, black eyebrow. “Now this is getting interesting.”

“No—Cloud. I keep telling you, Ollie, it’s not mama, it’s Cloud,” the young man admonished, accepting the wriggling bundle from Cid (which he had to, as there would be no pacifying Ollie, otherwise). “Can you say it for me? Cloud.”

“Mama!” Ollie asserted, with cheerful confidence.

“Cloud, this is Nero,” Vincent explained, stepping forward. “It’s rather a long story, but he’s my son.”

Cloud’s blue eyes widened. “Like, biological? Seph, you have a brother, now?”

“Mn,” Sephiroth nodded. “Nero the Sable, no legal surname. He is twenty-three years old, uses a Chaos-derived darkness ability, and has been declared criminally insane, by the state. He belonged to the Deepground Tsviets, before being remanded to my father's custody, and has likely killed a person or two of your acquaintance, at some point.”

“Wow. Sounds like he really is your brother. Hi, Nero. Nice to meet you. I’m Seph’s boyfriend, Cloud.”

Nero was opening his mouth to say he didn’t give a shit who he was, but a subtle shift in Sephiroth’s posture made him shut it again, and make do with a stiff dip of his chin.

Cloud looked back and forth between them. “So…you guys ready to go grocery shopping?”

LINK TO CH. 5

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