tinkaton: aurora | disney's sleeping beauty (Default)
are we not all things? ([personal profile] tinkaton) wrote in [community profile] fairykiss2024-03-10 11:12 pm

Drinking Buddies (Final Fantasy XVI, Otto/Cid)

Title: Drinking Buddies
Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI
Characters: Otto/Cidolfus Telamon
Rating: General Audiences
Word Count: 705
Additional Tags: Drunken Flirting, Banter, Shut Up Kiss
Summary: Cid and Otto relax after a hard day's work.
Notes: Prompted by [personal profile] lavendre for the Final Fantasy Kiss Battle 2024. Prompt: "Otto/Cid -- deep in their cups; payment for a good day's work."

Read on AO3.

“You have got to get a new cup,” Otto says, watching Cid refill his goblet for the third—the fourth?—time that night. “When’s the last time you washed that? Have you washed that?”

“Doesn’t need washed. S’working perfectly fine,” Cid replies before taking a swig of his freshly refilled drink. “See?”

Otto knows there’s no arguing with Cid, set in his ways as he is, but that’s never stopped him before. The same could probably be said about Otto. Tonight, though, he’s in a good mood and less keen on arguing, especially when Cid’s in an equally good mood too. The wine is good, the company even better, and every hard-won success deserved to be fully celebrated when possible.

He refills his own cup, humming softly under his breath, and when he sets down the bottle and looks up he finds Cid watching him.

“Good to see you smiling,” Cid says, an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I smile,” Otto insists, the inclination to be contrary coming almost on instinct.

“Only when you’re not looking so dour.”

“Oh, piss off,” Otto says, smiling wider. Hiding his expression behind his goblet as he takes a drink, he feels the wine warming his cheeks. Mostly just the wine.

“I’ll piss off, if you want,” Cid says, taking Otto by surprise. He never actually means it when he tells Cid to piss off, and Cid never acts like he takes it seriously.

“Don’t,” Otto says without thinking, putting his hand on the table near Cid’s.

“You don’t want me to leave?” Cid asks, teasing as he feigns confusion. “So you’re just being contrary?”

He looks at Otto expectantly, waiting for his response, and Otto could strangle the man. Or kiss him.

“Stop playing the fool,” Otto grumbles, annoyed at himself for falling right into Cid’s trap.

Cid moves his hand to cover Otto’s, then flips them after a moment, bringing them up to kiss the center of Otto’s palm.

“Who says I’m playing?” he says. Another kiss, on the inside of Otto’s wrist. “You’re a complicated man.”

Otto watches Cid, eyes slightly lidded from the drink and something else. “And yet you read me like a book.”

“Do I?” Cid says. “I find that—”

Otto doesn’t let him finish. If he leaves matters in Cid’s hands, the man will talk them in circles for half an hour for his own amusement.

Tugging his hand free, he reaches forward to grasp the back of Cid’s head, pushing up from his chair and leaning over the corner of the table so he can press his mouth to Cid’s. That shuts him up rather nicely, and as Otto deepens the kiss he feels Cid’s hands come up to grip his shoulders, steadying him. They both taste of wine, and Cid laughs in the middle of the kiss, a low rumble in his chest that Otto can feel where they touch. When he breaks off the kiss he doesn’t go far, hand still on the back of Cid’s neck.

“Otto,” Cid says, voice rough, and the sound of it makes Otto shiver. He feels like he did when they first met, young and stupid, when Cid says his name like that. “Good job today.”

Otto shakes his head slightly, forehead resting against Cid’s. “I don’t need your thanks.”

“Payment for a good day’s work, then,” Cid suggests, sliding one hand from Otto’s shoulder to lay it flat in the middle of his chest. Otto laughs, because he needs that even less, but he lets Cid push him back into his chair, gripping Cid’s hips as Cid straddles his legs and settles on his lap.

Cid reaches back and grabs his cup, taking a long swig of his wine as he drains it dry. He sets the goblet down with a satisfied clunk against the table, then turns back to Otto and leans down for another kiss. There’s wine clinging to Cid’s tongue as it slips into Otto’s mouth, and Otto tightens his grip on Cid’s waist, holding him closer. He doesn’t need thanks or payment for what they do here, for Cid’s vision of a better world, but he’ll take what he can get all the same.

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