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Dec. 5th, 2010 10:03 pm
[identity profile] electrumicity.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] bifolding
Title: Pulsation
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIII
Pairing: Cid/Rygdea
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Despite the horrible sounding title, not a smutfic. Inspired by all the damn pubcrawling I did last night. Gift for Kym.

Cid had regretting going in there since before he even took a step into the place. It was too dark, too stuffy, the music was too loud, too crowded, and it was one of the absolute last places he would ever be caught at. But Rygdea had given him those eyes, and the nagging, and the bribing, and it only went on and on from there.

"An hour. No more than an hour," he muttered in Rygdea's ear after leaning down to actually reach it. "I still cannot believe you insisted on this..."

The younger man in question rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around Cid's waist. "Oh, c'mon. I haven't been to a nightclub in years, and you oughta experience it at least once. Have a drink, sit down with me, maybe we'll do some dancin'..."

A darkened expression made him decide that maybe the last one would be pushing it too hard. "Okay, fine," Rygdea said, throwing his free arm up in defeat. "No dancin', but you're at least havin' a drink or five."

Not even bothering to respond, Cid pried himself out of Rygdea's grip, head ducked as he tried to find a place to sit. His greatest fear? That someone would recognize him. With his height, he stuck out like a sore thumb, and he didn't feel like being gossiped about. The brunet followed him like the puppy Cid often compared him to, eventually grabbing his wrist and dragging him off. Before the Brigadier General could respond, Rygdea had pulled him onto a couch in one of the darker corners of the room.

"Here. No one's gonna see ya here unless they're really lookin', and it ain't as crowded over here either. Relax, get comfortable. I'm getting' us drinks." Rygdea didn't bother to give his lover a chance to respond before heading off in the direction of the bar.

Time was passing at too slow of a pace for Cid to like until the other returned. Shoving a glass of god-knows-what into his hand, Rygdea flopped down onto the couch next to him. "Cheers!" he exclaimed as he clinked their drinks together and immediately started to down his own.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was in it, but upon taking a sip, Cid decided that it was agreeable enough. Through the hour he had promised Rygdea, the two remained on the couch, going through drink after drink while Rygdea failed time and time again to drag Cid up to dance with him.

"No damn fun at all," Rygdea sighed as he finished up his drink and crawled onto Cid's lap, facing him. "Well, if you aren't gonna dance with me, we'll have to have fun some other way..."

"Get off of me," Cid responded simply as he tried to shove the half-drunken man off of him (not that his own head hadn't grown rather fuzzy as well). It wasn't that he particularly minded the action; it was the location that made it unacceptable. "People can see us."

"Nobody's lookin." The words were whispered into Cid's ear before he felt stubbled skin moving down his face, replaced by softer lips at his neck. "Even if they were, so the hell what. No one knows who ya are here."

Again, Cid tried to move him, but it was difficult with Rygdea's arms wrapped around his waist and his mouth latched onto his neck. As numerous as his protests were, they didn't seem to have any effect, and when Rygdea's mouth moved to press against his own, any further complaints were swallowed.

He didn't know how long they were there, the strobing lights and pulsating music fading from his hearing while his senses focused solely on the man in his lap. Hands roamed under clothing, against skin, and the stuffiness of the club wasn't to blame now for why Cid couldn't breathe. It was only when he felt Rygdea start to unbutton his pants that he pulled away, grabbing the younger man's hands and moving them aside.

"Idiot," Cid scolded, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. "What we just did is bad enough, but keep your exhibitionism to yourself."

Even a pout couldn't save Rygdea now, and so the Captain sighed and rolled out of his lap. "Damn. Can't blame a guy for tryin'. Well, if you're gonna be like that, we might as well go back to our room, hmm?"

"One track minded..." Cid muttered, but he knew that he had to compromise. Then again, this time, it wasn't such a bad thing.
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