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The spring heat is slow, balmy, damp — a whisper of the heat that scorches through Seventh Heaven in the summer.
Tifa is lying with her legs tucked between Cloud’s legs, her hands resting beneath his shirt, eyes closed. She can feel the steady rise and fall of his warm, hard chest, the strong brace of his thighs around hers. Sunlight pools onto the bed, slow and golden. The world is soft and quiet.
Cloud smells like cedarwood and mako and leather, a scent so heady Tifa snuggles closer and inhales with a soft sigh. His arms are wound snugly around her body, the top of her head tucked beneath his chin.
She can sense the blaze of those eyes on her.
“Stop watching me.”
She feels the quirk of his mouth against the side of her head, the low rumble of his voice as he raises her hand to his mouth and kisses her fingertips. “I’m not.”
She moves her right hand down the smooth muscle of his hip. Touching him has always anchored her, drawn her out of the fear and anguish. But this lazy, gentle intimacy is the safest place she’s ever known.
The despair, the agony — weeping by his bedside, a moment so profound and terrible that it still singes her throat, the rough burn of a village aflame. A time so dark, a time when Cloud had confessed he was degrading, hollow, torn. Barely the man he hoped to be, still the man she loved more than life. And now —
And now they’re here, in their home, lying in each other’s arms, and Cloud is happy — Cloud is smiling.
The last notes of an aching, twinkling song. A little blond boy, listening at the window. She could cry, won’t, could.
“You’re always staring at me,” she says into his shirt, her voice muffled.
Cloud doesn’t say anything, but she feels his teeth graze her earlobe as he bites down gently and tugs. She shudders involuntarily, arching into him a bit.
“Not fair,” she manages, dipping her fingers below the waistband of his briefs, grazing over the silken hard warmth of his skin.
He squeezes his arms around her even tighter. “Tifa.”
“Hmm.” She’s drowsy, languid, drowning in the brilliant quieting heat of him.
“Can we stay here?” His voice is suddenly boyish, young.
Tifa lifts her head to give him a teasing smile, raising her arms around his neck and nuzzling his throat, half-comfort and half-need. “For how long?”
“A long, long time,” Cloud murmurs, running his hands through her hair. She resists the urge to make some little sound of pleasure; he has a precarious grip on his self-control when it comes to her. Years of touch-starved fear, carding her own hands through her hair until she felt numb. And now Cloud is melting her to the bone with those gentle scrapes and shivery little circles against her scalp.
“Okay,” she says, lilting. They fall silent for a few minutes. The strength of him surrounds her, a promise and dream all at once.
Tifa kisses the side of his jaw, savoring the smell of him again. She could live inside his skin, crawl there and hide from the world. Just Tifa and Cloud, and nothing else, like he’s always wanted. His secret wish — her.
“Wanna know something funny?” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Evan asked me if I’d ever been on a date at the Golden Saucer.”
“Uh huh.”
“He asked if I went with you,” she clarifies.
Cloud’s eyes are soft, delicately blue, flaring as he runs his thumb over her bottom lip. “And what’d you say?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Tifa giggles a little at the cold, irritated look that crosses his face, a remnant of that cool, arrogant mask that set her soul alight. “Don’t look so put out. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Oh, you don’t, do you?” Cloud says, his eyes on her mouth. She shivers at the memory of that night.
Before she can respond, he tips his head down and kisses her, softly at first, then forcefully. Her head spins, dizzy at the cool, perfect taste of him, the feel of his tongue in her mouth. He kisses her and she loses her sense of place, of time — she’s disembodied, borne above, floating in the blue light of a thousand stars.
Doesn’t matter where they are. How old. How weary and cold. His kiss is the most she’s ever known, ever felt, and when he takes her beyond, to the place of perfect radiance, she understands why she’s been placed on this Planet. For this.
She pulls back, breathing heavily. “Cloud. Oxygen.”
“Don’t need it,” he says, kissing her again.
She can feel his leg moving, knee nudging her thighs apart. She spreads them a bit, the slow vibrant pulse of him ebbing through her, the rough pressure of him pressing against her.
Cloud grazes her earlobe with his teeth again before licking and sucking on the spot beneath her jaw. His mouth is hot, wet, electrifying, and she’s free-falling into the dazzling white light, making little noises as she stretches out into him.
“You already have me,” she manages to gasp out as his hands slide under her top, luxuriously stroking the underside of her breasts.
“Uh huh,” he murmurs into her neck. “Today and tomorrow and the day after that and forever.”
It’s unspoken but intrinsic: they can’t get enough, can’t ever, can’t —
Tifa thinks if Cloud died, she would go too. Lie right beside him, close her eyes and cut the fight out of her limbs. Blood and bone and the last song of her heart.
He’s said as much, that he could live through everything else, bandage the other aching wounds. But not her.
Yuffie had mentioned it once, Barret’s eyes flickering with the memory. Never seen him like that. Completely gone, eyes hollow. He thought you were dead… it was like there was no more Cloud left in him.
Barret’s voice had been gruff, an undercurrent of tension. Only way he snapped back was hearing your name.
And when she had found him, that grave, beautiful face pinched in endless pain. Sprawled out with a sword at his back, half-alive and heaving. Eyes, edged with molten green sorrow. She had said, “Cloud? Is it really you?”
And then — in a voice so rough and torn and world-weary, as if he had been searching for her through lifetimes — he had said, “Tifa?”
He’s saying it now, coaxing her from the violent fear and memory. “Tifa.” Kissing her eyelids and the tip of her nose, so light, so tender, his hands drawing smooth strokes down her spine. “Tifa. Come back to me.”
She keeps her eyes closed, trembling. The thought of losing Cloud again…
His voice is soft now, so low and gentle. “Like how I always come back to you. Always. Remember?”
It’s not real, she thinks. It’s not possible that they survived, that she could be here, holding him to her skin. A dream buried for so long, a dream simmering beneath the loneliness and hatred that carried her to Midgar. And for so long, she had been alone. Fought the village and the traditions and the cage — earned the right to her own blazing life, free of men and their cruelty.
But always — the boy who never wanted anything from her. The memory of those blue eyes, that boyish face, the childish coax and eternal promise. How could she not have loved him?
She finds his hands, wraps all her fingers around one of his. “I know,” she whispers, her voice strained and quiet from the effort of holding back tears. “I—I’m trying.”
It isn’t like her to be strong anymore, but with Cloud she can be weak, be girlish and scared. She can see the resolve burning behind those brilliant blue-green eyes. A promise to save her, should she need it, and Tifa craves salvation, craves his salvation. She saved him, found him in the glowing dark, and now he saves her.
“You are strong,” Cloud says softly, cupping her face in the calloused warmth of his hands. “The strongest person I know.”
Tifa manages an impish smile as he squishes her cheeks a bit. “Is that all?”
His smile grows, eyes warming at her attempt. “And brave. And sweet. And beautiful.” He releases her face and pulls her close, her body tucked between his legs again. She shivers, flushing again at the close contact.
“But you know that.” Cloud sucks on her bottom lip, teeth grazing the soft flesh, and she makes a little sound of assent. “You know I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl on Gaia.”
Tifa threads her hands through the soft, pale hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him into a hotter, wetter kiss. His tongue slides against hers, deepening the kiss as his hands slide to her hips, holding her still as he rocks up into her. The pleasure of it uncoils the tension and fear, flooding her body with heated anticipation. Cloud uses his words now, more than she ever imagined — to reassure, console, tease. But they’ve never needed the grand declarations, not when her soul sings out at his taste.
Black cotton, cedar, mako, sweat. The faint tinge of leather. His fingers are digging into her thighs, forcing her to still the aching press and grind of her hips against him. He’s so broad, so warm against her, and she burns for it, throbbing already, but Cloud’s eyes have darkened dangerously. She can feel the long, steely hardness of him against her stomach.
“Cloud,” she whines, impatient. When they touch — the electric surge and sparkling sky, the heat and need and life — that dark call of the abyss falls silent.
And there is nothing but love, love and desire.
He shakes his head, not removing his gaze from her face even as his hands trail up and pull her shirt — his shirt, really — over her head, cupping the heavy flesh of her breasts. “Be patient.”
“Don’t want to,” she says petulantly, leaning up to kiss him. He won’t let her though, flicking and thumbing her nipples as his mouth hovers just above hers, a quiet little smirk curving at the edges.
“Is that so.” He isn’t asking, and she’s close to begging.
She feels her breasts ache, nipples hardening and swelling at his rough touch, hot sparks traveling straight to the ache between her legs.
He lifts her leg over his, grinding right into her core, and her vision whites out for one star-wheeling moment. “Ohhh…”
She reaches for him blindly, wriggling as he grasps her hand with those long fingers, holding her back. Cloud’s eyes are molten blue, so fiery and intent that she ducks her head.
His other hand pinches her nipple gently, just enough for the sting to make her gasp out. Then his thumb circles again, squeezing her flesh. Cloud’s mouth hangs open slightly as he watches her moan.
“Please!” She surges up, desperate, and this time he meets her in a fierce kiss, sucking on her tongue. She’s ravenous, he’s in a place beyond hunger.
Cloud has a look on his face, one she recognizes sometimes when he’s wrapped tightly around her, revving Fenrir through the fields. Male cunning and tender need.
Tifa noses his throat, blinking up at him. “What?”
“Come up here,” he says after a moment, his voice so rough and thick with lust that it throbs right through her.
For a moment, she doesn’t understand, but then he’s moving her on her stomach across him, drawing her thighs up onto his face. Tifa blushes hotly as he moves the lace of her panties out of the way, staring at her intently. She moves a bit, shy, and Cloud instantly licks her, drawing one blazing stripe across her pulsing heat.
She half-yelps, half-moans. Cloud sucks on her, hard, his tongue relentless. He wraps his arms around her thighs like a vice and holds tight. She’s so wet, leaking on him, and he buries his face into her, and she’s dying, she could come, she could come right then —
“I need you,” he groans into her wetness, fucking her with his tongue until she’s close to sobbing. “So fucking much.”
Trembling and dazed, Tifa manages to work her hands into his briefs, yanking them lower and letting him spring free. His chest is chiseled, a flat expanse of deliciously muscled warmth, and she wants to kiss him everywhere. He’s thick in her hand and she lowers her mouth to him with a sigh, saliva running down the side of her mouth as she takes him in fully.
She feels Cloud jerk his hips, pulling back from her as he moans something unintelligible.
Tifa hums around him, hoping it suffices as a response.
“Fuck,” he’s saying, licking over her clit in needy, savage strokes. “Yeah, Tifa. Just like that.”
She moves her hand back blindly, grabbing air until she feels Cloud’s hand move from her thighs to capture hers. His light squeeze is a little questioning, but he tries to interlace their hands. Tifa grabs his index and middle fingers instead, holding them together, and tugs. Inside, inside now.
She feels him laugh against her, and then those clever fingers are sliding inside her heat, so filling that she clenches involuntarily and cries out. His hands are on her ass, spreading her wide as he laves her with an unmatched intensity.
She can’t attend to him anymore, even as she tries to keep up by licking and stroking him. “Cloud—“
And she breaks, the world shattering into the slow, lilac prism of a thousand lights. Slow, slow, slow.
She’s wailing out his name, nearly religious as the pleasure soars and stretches . She rests her face on the toned warmth of his thigh and pants through the last of it as he licks her clean.
“Oh, Cloud,” she says into his skin.
He kisses her swollen, aching core, then lets her slide around, placing her hands on his shoulders. When their eyes meet, she feels as though their souls are touching.
“You don’t play fair.”
He raises both brows. “Thought that was more than fair.” She feels him twitch against her, still hard, a reminder that he’s far from finished with her. The friction and slickness feel unthinkably good, but she aches to have him deep inside.
Tifa summons her playfulness, brushing her nose against his and reveling in the pure tenderness of his gaze. She still can’t ever quite fathom that Cloud — the quiet, untouchable, beautiful boy from childhood — is touching her like this. So gentle and so rough.
“Think you can take me?” she teases, stroking him as she rubs her clit against the side of his cock.
His eyes glint with pure sexual promise. “I guess,” he breathes, nipping at her neck, “we’ll find out.”
When Cloud thrusts home, the intense fullness makes tears spring to the corner of her eyes. He’s thick inside her, throbbing with a life of his own, and she feels him so deep. She clenches around him, fluttering and spasming, and the sensation of his bare chest pressed against her swollen breasts is so sensual, so enveloping, and she feels her nails digging crescents into his shoulder.
Cloud cups her face gently, guiding her to meet that ravenous mako-blue gaze. His mouth is curved in that knowing way, hands squeezing the flesh of her ass. “You with me? Yeah?”
She nods, leaning into his palm. Can’t trust herself to speak without begging.
Cloud rocks his hips, hitting a spine-tingling spot inside her, and she melts, soaking him as her eyes plead for more. “Speak, Tifa,” he urges, brushing his nose against hers.
“I’m with you,” she whispers brokenly, trying to move her hips to ride him with a burning need. But Cloud’s grip — so easy for him, all that casual, coiled strength — won’t let her move.
He kisses her — messy, wild, deep. “I’m more than with you, Tifa.” His thumb strokes her cheekbone. “Tell me where I am.”
“Inside me,” she gasps out, rocking against him desperately. “So—so deep.”
His smile is edged with something feral. “Yeah, good.” He hammers up into her, grinding her swollen, hypersensitive clit against him, and she keens. “Move, Teef.”
His voice is a low command, and she surges, lifting her hips and slamming down on him to the hilt. They both gasp, sweat sliding down his brow, and she bites his shoulder hard. Then licks at his skin, wanting to eat him whole.
“Cloud,” she pants, watching his length slide in and out of her, leaking around him. “Cloud.”
He grips her chin, their eyes locking – blue on red on blue. “Stick your tongue out.”
He sucks on her tongue and reaches down to swirl hot little circles against her clit with one hand, thrusting up in fierce, hard strokes, and Tifa shatters again, clenching so tightly that she screams out something unintelligible.
Cloud strokes the flesh of her thighs, crooning something sweet into the curve of her neck, but Tifa bites at him a little angrily. “Not done!”
This makes him smile, kiss her and stroke her cheek with achingly gentleness. “Fuck. I love you.”
“Okay,” she agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. His pace is brutal now, turning her insides to liquid gold.
“Okay? That all you have to say?” He slows his relentless pace, no longer hitting that perfect spongy plateau inside her.
She wrinkles her face at him, reaching down to pull him further inside. He watches her with that same hungry, open-mouthed look. Then she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, shaken by the pure adoration she feels for him. Sometimes she feels like running around the bar and dancing at the thought of him, and then he’s there, beside her, pushing her hair back from her shoulder, kissing her until she laughs. What a life they’ve made together, she thinks. What a special and beautiful life.
He’s nuzzling at her now. “Is there something else you wanted to hear, Strife?” she asks, lowering her lashes.
A pause. He’s grinding up into her, slowly, leisurely. She senses the final moment of his self-control growing thin. “I waited my whole life to hear it,” he says finally. His eyes are glowing, serious. She wonders how they spent so much of their adolescence quietly pining, each believing their desires to be unrequited. How obvious it seems now.
She smiles. “That I love you more than anything on the Planet?”
Cloud’s brow is still furrowed, though his mouth relaxes, and she reaches up to smooth the line away. “I do, you know. Choose you, Cloud. Every time.”
He jerks and comes inside her with a groan, dropping his forehead to hers and holding her against the sweaty, blissful heat of his body. She looks up at him, satiated, glowing.
He’s kissing her eyelids, cheeks, nose, jaw. Murmuring, “Can’t believe it…”
“Believe what?”
“Always hoped one day I’d be worthy of you. You don’t understand.” He’s stroking her hair, detangling the ends, eyes soft and bright. “You don’t understand what it means to me. Being here with you.”
Her eyes fill with tears again. “Oh, Cloud.”
He leans back against the bed, taking her with him, still buried inside. “Just doesn’t feel real sometimes.”
Tifa runs her hand down the lean muscle of his chest. “I know.” She gives him the smile that maybe he doesn’t always see, the soft, unconscious smile when she’s watching him balance plates on his elbow or pore over maps with Denzel. “But it's real. I promise.”
He twitches inside her, stirring, and his eyes are already darkening. She laughs. “Ready so soon?”
His answering smile takes her breath away. “Yeah… Tifa… I’m yours. That will always be true and real.”
She throws her arms around him and the rest of the world disappears.