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Vincent sits by Cloud. They have been like this for days, coming apart, coming together, silent, in the night when everyone is asleep.
It takes Cloud days to touch Vincent after the first time, but he does. He threads his fingers through Vincent’s, and it’s not quite touching with their combined gloves, but it’s something.
Days after that, Cloud slides into Vincent’s tent and sleeps by his side. He thinks Vincent is sleeping, but he’s not. He’s on his side, staring at the wall of the tent, the glow of the fire outside making shadows play over the inside. The tent is thin—almost too thin—threadbare. It’s Cloud’s, and he’d given it to Vincent, knew he liked to sleep alone, but his personal demons and his desire to be with a kindred spirit outweighs his wish to leave Vincent alone. Besides, he knows, deep down, they both want this. Cloud scoots close and Vincent can smell him, feel him, and he radiates warmth into his tired bones.
Days pass without any comment from both of them. In the mornings, before anyone is awake, Cloud leaves. Then one day, as they’re nearing the Northern Crater, Vincent grabs Cloud’s hand and tugs him closer as he’s trying to leave.
The first time Cloud kisses Vincent it’s shy and timid and perfect. Vincent wonders what he’s done to deserve it. He’s done so much wrong, messed up so much in his life. He sees his father in his mind’s eye, disappointment written on his grave gaunt face. He sees Veld, casting him away to Nibelheim, shame in his eyes. He sees Lucrecia, shaking her head and telling him the baby isn’t his, that she’s chosen Hojo. He sees death on the insides of his eyelids. He sees a little girl, shaking and crying, in his cage where Hojo has kept him locked up, and he sees himself transform into Galian, rend her limb from limb and crunch into her bones like she wasn’t just a living breathing child. All these things make him hesitate, but Cloud is insistent. He kisses like sweet fire and it’s good and so wrong he is shaking.
He doesn’t hear Cloud ask him what’s wrong. He leaves the tent. He can’t ruin anyone else. He can’t taint anyone else with his miasma of pain and death.
He doesn’t hear Cloud follow him.
No one else is awake. It’s early dawn, and the sky is blue-purple and the stars are half visible. The moon is sinking into the horizon.
Cloud looks angry. Good. Let Vincent ruin this too, push him away. He’ll only hurt him. But Cloud isn’t going to let this dissolve into nothing.
Cloud confronts Vincent. The fire has died down to its embers and it’s so quiet Vincent can hear his heart hammering in his chest. Can hear the angry breaths Cloud is taking.
Cloud takes Vincent’s hand and presses it to his own chest. He asks him if he can feel him, and Vincent nods. Cloud tells him, in no uncertain terms, his heart is beating for him. Vincent thinks he hasn’t heard right, but then Cloud is pulling Vincent forward and their mouths are an inch apart. Cloud tells him he loves him, and then he is kissing Vincent.
Vincent pulls away. He’s shaking. He says “don’t” and Cloud shakes his head and tells him it’s too late, that he loves him so hard it scares him, because they’re about to confront Sephiroth and Cloud doesn’t know what the future looks like, if this is their last moment.
Cloud is absolutely serious when he tells Vincent he wants to spend his last moments with Vincent. Vincent bites the inside of his cheek, looks lost, because it’s what he wants too, but he doesn’t know how to say it.
They go back into the tent.
Cloud leads, Vincent follows. It’s almost time for everyone to start getting up, but this moment is all they have. Cloud undresses, bares himself to Vincent in body and spirit. Vincent wants to do the same, but he doesn’t know how to. It’s been so long, and he is a roadmap of scars and pain, besides. When Cloud’s bare hands quest to undo Vincent’s cloak, Vincent just lets him, his heart thundering in his ears.
When they’re both naked, Cloud reverently kisses all of Vincent’s horror and beauty, and then they make love.
Vincent fits himself inside Cloud and they move together as one. They ride to heaven together, their bodies glistening and burning. When Cloud arches underneath him, Vincent’s name quiet and holy on his lips, Vincent loses himself inside him and they lay, quietly breathing, coming back to Gaia.
Vincent knows it might be the last time they come together, but he hopes it might not be. Alone, they are two halves seeking retribution. Together, they burn like glistening freedom.