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Respite (Final Fantasy XVI, Clive/Cid/Jill)
Title: Respite
Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI
Characters: Clive Rosfield/Cidolfus Telamon/Jill Warrick
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 878
Additional Tags: Fluff, Banter
Summary: Cid's never needed much looking after, but he doesn't mind it with them.
Notes: Prompted by![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lavendre for the Final Fantasy Kiss Battle 2024.
Read on AO3.
It was hard to mark the passage of time without any windows. Candlelight flickered in the dark corners of Cid’s quarters of the Hideaway, casting shadows over the seemingly endless array of letters, requisition requests, and mission updates that littered his desk. As Cid was the kind of man frequently found burning the candle at both ends, metaphorically speaking, this was of little concern to him.
Otto and the others had learned long ago to leave Cid be when he was working, wish as they might that he would take better care of himself. Cid found it hard to rest when there was work that needed doing, and few he trusted to get it done. Everyone else in the Hideaway was working hard and he owed it to them to work even harder.
Tonight, the candles were burnt low, a sign of how late in the night (or perhaps how early the next morning) it was. So the knock at his door came as some surprise—even more surprising was the figure who pushed it open moments later.
“You’re still awake,” Jill said, smiling like she hadn’t been expecting otherwise. Behind her, Clive leaned against the door frame, standing guard while Jill entered the solar. Torgal was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t unusual. The hound had his own favored haunts around the Hideaway.
Cid took the cigarette from his mouth so he could speak, letting the stub dangle between his fingers. “As are you.” He looked over the two of them for any sign of injury. “Everything went well?”
“No trouble at all,” Jill replied. They both had a windswept look about them, Clive’s hair a bit tangled where it curled around his face, but Cid contented himself with the knowledge that if either of them had gotten hurt, Tarja would have pounced as soon as they returned.
“Good,” he said, and a comfortable silence descended over the room. Jill came closer, glancing down at the papers scattered before him, then reached out. He thought, at first, she was trying to take his hand, and that startled him into not reacting as she lightly pressed a finger to the smoldering end of his cigarette, putting it out with the faintest exertion of Shiva’s power.
“You’ll start a fire if you’re not careful,” she said.
The uncharacteristic application of her magic even more surprising than his thinking Jill wanted to hold his hand, it took him a moment to put the now cold stub of a cigarette down in the ashtray on his desk.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him for things like that,” he said with a gesture at Clive, finally finding his voice.
“What would you do without us?” Clive said wryly, but the teasing was crystal clear to Cid’s ear.
“Likely get more work done,” he replied without missing a beat. “Not that I don’t treasure our little chats, but I’d have thought the two of you would rather rest after your travels, weary as you must be.”
Jill glanced over her shoulder at Clive, then looked back to Cid. “We thought you might need some encouragement to rest yourself.”
As she spoke, Clive moved from the doorway, closing the door behind him with a gentle nudge of his boot. Well aware that he’d walked into an ambush without even trying, Cid set down his quill.
“There’s work needs doing,” he said, a token protest.
“There’s always work that needs doing,” Clive agreed with a nod. “I won’t argue that.”
“Good,” Cid grumbled, but it was hard to be annoyed when Jill was reaching for him in earnest this time, carding her fingers back through his hair.
“A few hours sleep will do you good,” she said gently, thumb brushing over his temple. Given the looks that kept passing between her and Clive, the crackle in the air that had nothing to do with his own Eikon, Cid wasn’t sure he’d be getting much sleep.
Reaching up, he took hold of Jill’s hand and brought it down to kiss her gloved knuckles. “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you.” He looked to Clive and added, “Both of you.”
“Or maybe we’ve been a good influence on you,” Clive said. He’d joined them by Cid’s desk, shoulder bumping up against Jill’s, and Cid released Jill’s hand to take hold of Clive’s arm instead. He tugged Clive down, closed the gap between them, and captured his mouth in a quick but heated kiss. He could feel Clive’s lips part in surprise before starting to kiss him back, but Cid pulled away then, smirking.
“Highly doubtful,” he said, pleased as Jill hid a laugh behind her hand.
Pushing his chair back from his desk, Cid stood with a slight groan as his back protested the movement after sitting for so long. “If you’re so worried about me, maybe someone ought to rub my back.”
Smiling, Jill looped her arm through Cid’s, guiding him away from the desk. “Clive will,” she offered, tone playful. Clive huffed softly but raised no objections.
Cid grinned, already feeling less stressed than when the evening started. He’d never needed much looking after, greatly preferring to look after others, but with the two of them, he found he didn’t really mind it.
Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI
Characters: Clive Rosfield/Cidolfus Telamon/Jill Warrick
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 878
Additional Tags: Fluff, Banter
Summary: Cid's never needed much looking after, but he doesn't mind it with them.
Notes: Prompted by
lavendre for the Final Fantasy Kiss Battle 2024.Read on AO3.
It was hard to mark the passage of time without any windows. Candlelight flickered in the dark corners of Cid’s quarters of the Hideaway, casting shadows over the seemingly endless array of letters, requisition requests, and mission updates that littered his desk. As Cid was the kind of man frequently found burning the candle at both ends, metaphorically speaking, this was of little concern to him.
Otto and the others had learned long ago to leave Cid be when he was working, wish as they might that he would take better care of himself. Cid found it hard to rest when there was work that needed doing, and few he trusted to get it done. Everyone else in the Hideaway was working hard and he owed it to them to work even harder.
Tonight, the candles were burnt low, a sign of how late in the night (or perhaps how early the next morning) it was. So the knock at his door came as some surprise—even more surprising was the figure who pushed it open moments later.
“You’re still awake,” Jill said, smiling like she hadn’t been expecting otherwise. Behind her, Clive leaned against the door frame, standing guard while Jill entered the solar. Torgal was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t unusual. The hound had his own favored haunts around the Hideaway.
Cid took the cigarette from his mouth so he could speak, letting the stub dangle between his fingers. “As are you.” He looked over the two of them for any sign of injury. “Everything went well?”
“No trouble at all,” Jill replied. They both had a windswept look about them, Clive’s hair a bit tangled where it curled around his face, but Cid contented himself with the knowledge that if either of them had gotten hurt, Tarja would have pounced as soon as they returned.
“Good,” he said, and a comfortable silence descended over the room. Jill came closer, glancing down at the papers scattered before him, then reached out. He thought, at first, she was trying to take his hand, and that startled him into not reacting as she lightly pressed a finger to the smoldering end of his cigarette, putting it out with the faintest exertion of Shiva’s power.
“You’ll start a fire if you’re not careful,” she said.
The uncharacteristic application of her magic even more surprising than his thinking Jill wanted to hold his hand, it took him a moment to put the now cold stub of a cigarette down in the ashtray on his desk.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him for things like that,” he said with a gesture at Clive, finally finding his voice.
“What would you do without us?” Clive said wryly, but the teasing was crystal clear to Cid’s ear.
“Likely get more work done,” he replied without missing a beat. “Not that I don’t treasure our little chats, but I’d have thought the two of you would rather rest after your travels, weary as you must be.”
Jill glanced over her shoulder at Clive, then looked back to Cid. “We thought you might need some encouragement to rest yourself.”
As she spoke, Clive moved from the doorway, closing the door behind him with a gentle nudge of his boot. Well aware that he’d walked into an ambush without even trying, Cid set down his quill.
“There’s work needs doing,” he said, a token protest.
“There’s always work that needs doing,” Clive agreed with a nod. “I won’t argue that.”
“Good,” Cid grumbled, but it was hard to be annoyed when Jill was reaching for him in earnest this time, carding her fingers back through his hair.
“A few hours sleep will do you good,” she said gently, thumb brushing over his temple. Given the looks that kept passing between her and Clive, the crackle in the air that had nothing to do with his own Eikon, Cid wasn’t sure he’d be getting much sleep.
Reaching up, he took hold of Jill’s hand and brought it down to kiss her gloved knuckles. “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you.” He looked to Clive and added, “Both of you.”
“Or maybe we’ve been a good influence on you,” Clive said. He’d joined them by Cid’s desk, shoulder bumping up against Jill’s, and Cid released Jill’s hand to take hold of Clive’s arm instead. He tugged Clive down, closed the gap between them, and captured his mouth in a quick but heated kiss. He could feel Clive’s lips part in surprise before starting to kiss him back, but Cid pulled away then, smirking.
“Highly doubtful,” he said, pleased as Jill hid a laugh behind her hand.
Pushing his chair back from his desk, Cid stood with a slight groan as his back protested the movement after sitting for so long. “If you’re so worried about me, maybe someone ought to rub my back.”
Smiling, Jill looped her arm through Cid’s, guiding him away from the desk. “Clive will,” she offered, tone playful. Clive huffed softly but raised no objections.
Cid grinned, already feeling less stressed than when the evening started. He’d never needed much looking after, greatly preferring to look after others, but with the two of them, he found he didn’t really mind it.