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The quest had been — well.
Cloud leaned back on his heels, lowering his hands to his thighs and taking a deep breath. The sensation was strange and sharp, a low pinch siphoned into nothingness, then a growing stretch as his limbs retracted and expanded.
He wasn’t sure if he liked the frog thing.
He definitely didn’t like it.
He… sort of liked it.
Tifa blossomed next to him, the black silk of her long hair tumbling loose around her shoulders as she smiled, giddy and flushed and beautiful.
“Wow,” she said, breathless. “That never gets old.”
Cloud gave her a skeptical look, trying not to pant with the exertion of leaping across a rotating circle two dozen times. His legs felt like jelly, limp and wobbly.
Tifa laughed. “Well—maybe a little.” Her eyes fell to his mud-splattered torso and damp boots. “We can head back, get cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” he said, straightening. “Sounds good.” The weight of the sword on his back was a dull pain, and his muscles were aching for hot water. He knew the inn in Junon wasn’t far off.
She was walking a little ahead now, all that dark hair spilling down her back. Slender, preternaturally graceful, lithe with coiled muscles and the most perfect hips he’d ever seen. The slight sway of her body as she walked — he felt light-headed, suspended in desire.
He remembered the feel of banding his arm around that delicate waist, holding her to him, saving her from the fire and the fear. When she had saved him back, holding him aloft with blazing eyes. You gotta be better than this.
Always saving him.
He raised his hand to his mouth, throat dry.
Tifa turned back to Cloud, those long lashes fluttering slightly against rosy cheeks as she tilted her head. Her eyes were sparkling with humor, light and happy. She seemed to be waiting for him to catch up, and he strode forward, nudging her a little with his shoulder. She laughed again.
“Can’t wait to shower,” she said, holding her arm out for inspection playfully.
It was good to see her like this. After they had spoken in her room, he’d felt a weight lifted from his chest. Fighting with Tifa was – wrong. It was like the pulsing green death in his head, forcing him to his knees. Lying to her was worse.
Finn’s voice echoed in his head: We’re friends, but it’s not like I like her or anything. Funny kid. He smiled at the thought. His mom had probably heard a similar sentiment during those moody teenage years. But everyone in the village had known. Hell, even Maru.
“That bad?” Tifa was squinting up at him, amused by his smile.
“Uh, no,” Cloud said, schooling his face. “I was just thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“That kid reminded me of… myself, I guess.”
“Oh?” Tifa began walking, giving him a sidelong glance. She was cute, really cute, and her mouth was irresistibly soft. She had this specific scent, lush and fragrant – like bergamot and violets, like the radiant moon. He quelled the urge to lean over and cup her face in his hands. “Hmm. He was sort of prickly. Knew how to have fun, though.”
The teasing lilt in her voice made Cloud flush.
“I knew how to have fun back then,” he mumbled, tugging on his gloves.
“You sure did,” Tifa said. “Especially punching. I seem to recall lots of punching.”
“Yeah. Too bad you weren’t into punching back then. We could’ve punched together.” As Cloud spoke, he realized how stupid he sounded. She made him stupid, illogical.
But she was smiling again, broad and exquisite. “Really? Would you have wanted to hang out with me?”
“Yeah… I mean—I always want to hang out with you.” He was probably bright red by now; he averted his eyes in embarrassment.
Cloud could see the rest of the party ahead, Barret standing with his arms crossed as Aerith chattered on brightly. He felt a light touch on his bicep, Tifa’s fingers curling around him for a moment. The blood rushed to his head — her touch was a rush better than battle, headier than drink.
“Me too, Cloud.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and when he gazed at her again, she was pink.
When Aerith caught sight of them, Tifa let her hand fall. Cloud instantly missed the sensation of her tiny warm fingers on his skin. Maybe he was losing it.
“Woah,” Aerith said with a grin, eyes twinkling with implication. “You two sure got dirty.”
Tifa was blushing even further. “Nothing a shower won’t fix,” she replied, her voice demure.
“That’s too damn bad!” Barret swung his arm in the air, gesturing wildly. “Cause I got dibs on the first shower.”
“And I’m second,” Aerith said.
Cloud looked at Tifa. She looked at him, then shrugged helplessly. “Hope we won’t have to share,” she said, nudging him back.
He swallowed, his pants suddenly feeling all too tight. The thought of sharing a shower with Tifa, all sensual curves and smooth skin and doe eyes — he needed a fucking ice bath. He needed several ice baths.
“Yeah,” he managed, his voice rough. “Let’s hope.”
When they walked into the inn, they were greeted with bad news.
Tifa was getting used to it. Story of her life — flames devouring her home, whittling her down to a girl with scarred hands and not much else. She was almost relieved to hear it was about the plumbing.
The owner clasped his hands in front of him, his voice wheedling and pitiful. “You see… we’re having plumbing issues. The hot water is quite low… I’d imagine.”
“Alright,” Barret barked back, scowling. “Thanks for the heads up. We’ll be fast.”
This, incidentally, was not true.
Only one shower was working in their collective rooms. Barret had been relatively quick, Nanaki shaking off his fur into the carpet. Aerith — for all her many virtues — was taking a thousand years.
Tifa and Cloud were standing outside the bedroom, both leaning against the wall. Cloud, lean and sensual in all-black, sculpted arms crossed over his chest. His face was drawn tight at the wait, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Tifa looked at her feet, twisting her hands together. She could never say what she really wanted to say to him. That was a heavy fault. Among people who always spoke their mind — Cloud included — she was desperate to please.
I always want to hang out with you.
His voice had been low, steady. Honest. A far cry from the shy, rushed mouthful that afternoon before the water tower. It was a small sentiment, but it meant so much to her. Their moments were fleeting, so charged with tension or deep emotional intensity. She often feared that without the trauma and anguish, there was little tying them together. But there it was. He liked spending time with her. For all his cold arrogance, he was gentle and tender with her. Making frog noises and smiling at old memories.
So, so tender.
She glanced up at Cloud, who was — staring. That sensuous pink mouth was parted slightly, those blue-green eyes heavy-lidded and hungry. She felt her heart slow, then ricochet past her pulse into her throat. His stare was pure sex.
She felt the heat rise to her face, flooding her veins with something dark and heady. She bit her lip, clenching her thighs together involuntarily as she began to feel a wet heat throbbing below.
Their eyes locked, seared, sparked —
“All done,” a voice announced brightly, the door banging open to reveal a damp, pretty Aerith dressed in a white nightgown. “Although I think there might only be five minutes of hot water left.”
Cloud swore under his breath, then returned his scorching gaze to Tifa. “I’ll go last.”
Hope we won’t have to share. She’d meant it as a joke, but… the thought of Cloud, water sluicing down those narrow, chiseled hips, that broad chest…
Aerith shrugged her shoulders impishly before making her way down the hall. “Figure it out, you two.”
Tifa waited until Aerith was out of earshot, then steeled herself. Was she really going to do this? Suggest this?
She licked her lips. Cloud was watching her every movement, eyes dark and mouth open, as though he was seconds from pouncing. This feral, sexual side of him rarely surfaced, but she had caught it before. She knew what it meant. Knew what they both wanted, if even words failed.
“You know, we could—we could always share,” she managed at last. “To… save water. Right?”
Cloud was pretty sure he was dreaming.
Tifa Lockhart — the prettiest girl on Gaia — was giving him a shy, coy look, those garnet eyes glittering with desire.
We could always share.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Watched as her face fell. Shit.
“Yeah,” he forced out quickly. “Yeah—yeah, we should. We definitely… should.”
Her mouth was curving up slightly at the corner at his stuttered response. “Okay,” she said, her voice low and sweet and a little husky. “Um, let’s hurry.” Fuck, he was screwed.
He followed her inside wordlessly, turning to lock the door and wrenching the knob twice for good measure. The Planet would freeze over before anyone made their way inside this room.
Tifa was pulling off her gloves and armor, tossing them onto the bed. Cloud followed suit, hypnotized by her quick, graceful movements and the delicate sway of her hips. She shrugged out of her skirt and top, leaving her in tight black shorts and a sports bra. Cloud stripped out of his pants and unhooked his bracer, disbelieving. She was everything — long, long legs and shimmering pale skin and a beautiful little heart-shaped face.
Then she tilted her head at him, beckoning, and he was lost. The world flashed and unfolded in shades of crimson lust.
He made it inside the bathroom somehow. This was the girls’ room, and the shower was nice — long panels of clean glass, a marbled floor, and a series of complicated silver dials. There were two showerheads on opposing sides, and he faltered at the sight. Maybe he’d misunderstood, like that day in her room back in Midgar. Maybe she really did just want to shower together.
He couldn’t think straight, his mind an endless pond drawn through with the white shine of moonlight. Desire coursed through him, full and heavy, and he felt himself stirring in his briefs. He was a jerk, lusting after her. She was just trying to conserve water. Of course she was — Tifa, ever selfless and considerate.
Cloud kept his briefs on and stepped inside the shower, moving to the right and stepping under the relentless spray. The hot water was a soothing balm over his weary muscles, and he groaned long and low without thinking. He could hear Tifa’s tentative footsteps and unsteady breathing as she moved to the other showerhead.
Right. Sharing the shower. He kept his back turned, trying and failing not to think about her lithe, wet body. Close enough to touch, if he wanted. Would her lips part for him – fuck.
He was already hard as steel, throbbing incessantly. He ran his hands through his hair, restless. Maybe he’d just soap up quickly and —
“Cloud?”
Tifa’s voice was soft, tinged with hesitance and uncertainty.
“Uh, yeah?” He sounded deliriously hoarse.
“Um, there’s a spot I can’t reach on my back. Do you—do you think you could get it for me?”
Gaia. If he turned around, she might notice. But the thought of touching all that silken skin was too much. He turned slowly. “Yeah, I got it.”
She was standing a little out from under the water, her back to him, fully naked.
He hadn’t realized that she’d undressed fully, and the sight was enough to bring him to his knees.
Her long, elegant back, tapering into a delicate waist and flaring out to ample hips, an endlessly smooth expanse of sensuous skin. Her swan-like neck and dark cascade of hair. Cloud swallowed, spots swimming in his vision. Her perfectly rounded ass, beautiful and bare. The glimpse of slick pink between her legs.
Fuck.
He had no real experience with women, apart from a handful of shattered memories — faded moments of conversation and brutish laughter. His moments with Tifa often flared into heady want, but they had never so much as kissed.
He reached for the bar of soap, curling his fingers around it, then stepped forward.
“Uh, where?” His voice had dipped into a register so low and rough he barely recognized it.
Tifa pulled her hair over one shoulder and pointed to a spot in the center of her spine. She was trembling slightly and Cloud wondered if she was cold. He lathered the soap between his hands and stroked the patch of dirt, watching as the mud drained away. Then he drew soft little circles down her spine — entirely unnecessary — and watched the mouthwatering curve of her ass wobble slightly.
His length was painfully hard, his mind whiting out in dizzy, blinding heat. He would have to leave, and soon.
His hands began to absently trace her arms, her skin slippery with the last of the soap. When he reached her elbows, Tifa whirled around in his arms.
Her eyes were warm, brazen, glimmering with need. He drew his eyes from her face to those full breasts, swollen and perky, the flat plane of her stomach —
And then she threw her arms around his neck. The world fell silent, narrowing in on wine-red eyes and the wet feel of her, wrapped around him, pressing against him. Her mouth was open, her eyes burning and sleepy with carnal desire. He read the song in her gaze.
Cloud made a dark noise in the back of his throat and dipped his head to kiss her, hard.
Tifa made a tiny, strangled moan and devoured him back, vicious, needy, gripping him as she opened her mouth for his tongue. She kissed him as if she were starving — kissed him as if she understood the depth of his want, his love, his desperation. His hands slid to her waist, squeezing her body. She was soft and supple and aching, he was sucking on her tongue, he was intoxicated and blazing and gone.
He had thought their first kiss would be soft, a courtship ritual. He had thought he would fumble his way through the motions, catching her eye with an apologetic smile afterward.
This was different.
This was heated and wild. This was innate.
She was whining into his mouth, whispering more, and he moved to palm her breasts, thumbing her rosy nipples and savoring her little sounds as she ground her hips against his erection. More, more, more. The water poured down on them, still scorching. Her breasts were so full, so soft and slick in his hands, spilling through his fingers.
He kissed her until his vision swam, the taste of her so sweet and promising and unlike anything he could have imagined. Tifa pulled back, panting, pupils blown wide. Cloud seared the picture into his mind. This, of all things, he could not forget. She smiled, reaching up to touch his spikes.
“I’ve never seen your hair so flat,” she breathed softly.
Cloud narrowed his eyes at her, squeezing her breasts until she let out a low keen. From the way she pushed against him, her nipples were pebbled and hyper-sensitive.
“It’s not immune to water,” he answered finally, lowering his head to close his mouth around one breast. He swirled his tongue around her stiff peak, sucking and nibbling. She tightened her hands in his hair and cried out, and he wondered if he would even last another minute.
“I—I…” Tifa’s chest was heaving as he grazed his teeth over her nipples. It came naturally — almost animalistic, his lust — to tease her with his hands and mouth and teeth. “I didn’t mean—I like it, Cloud. Your hair. I— ohhhh, Gaia.”
He pulled her close for another long, decadent kiss, their mouths greedy and fervent as they swallowed each other whole. Her mouth was glossy with his saliva, rivulets of water coursing through the valley between her breasts and the heat between her thighs. She wasn’t real, couldn’t be, her hair streaming down like ribbons of dark satin. Cloud moved his hands to the soft muscle of her thighs, then gripped her ass and kneaded the tender flesh, spreading her open.
Tifa said something unintelligible, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder.
Cloud lowered himself to his knees. He felt Tifa’s hands tighten painfully around his shoulders as she blushed and squirmed.
He didn’t know much, but he knew this. The first lick of his tongue sent her shuddering and moaning against him, his name a breathless chant. She was sweet, perfect, open for him. He moved up, found the pulsing spot with his mouth, sucking gently.
“Cloud!” Her voice was a strangled wail, her beautiful face flushed and contorted with pleasure.
He slid his tongue inside her for a moment, living for her gasp. He raised one hand and cupped her, feeling her throb against him, then moved one finger inside. She was impossibly tight, and yet — he felt her clench down, felt her need and despair. She was slick against him, so wet, and it wasn’t the water. She wanted this.
Beyond all odds, Tifa Lockhart wanted him.
He flicked his tongue over her and suddenly her thighs were clamping down around him, shaking and spasming as she came in his mouth. She was crying out his name, panting, and he stroked her again until she soared over the edge a second time.
Tifa’s legs wobbled as Cloud stood to his full height again, and he braced her against him with one arm, guiding her against the glass door. She splayed herself against the glass obediently, and the sight of her nearly undid him.
The water pounded down behind them. They were both dripping, Tifa’s entire body small against his, so slick and warm.
He slid behind her, tugging and kicking off his briefs. Stroking himself with one hand, he ran the other over her ass. Tifa wriggled into him, arching her back. “Cloud, please…"
He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, driven by instinct. “Yeah, I know. I know.” He dropped his hand to stroke her, feeling her liquid warmth and her swollen clit. She mewled in response, moving up and down on his hand. Cloud thrust one finger inside, stretching her, moving slowly in and out, banding her in place with his arm.
“Oh, yes, yes…” Her moans trailed off into a desperate gasp. “More, please, more.”
“Tifa,” he said, feeling a surge of absolute desire and adoration for her. “You're so beautiful.”
He let another finger graze her opening, then slid two inside. She groaned and moved on him, squeezing his fingers tight. He increased his pace, feeling her slowly coming apart, letting her breath fog up the glass.
The sound of his fingers inside her were —
He licked a long, hot stripe up her neck, biting a bruise into her skin. He watched her writhe on him, begging. “Cloud… Cloud… I just want…”
He pressed deep, deep inside her, feeling a spongy softness that made her surge forward against the glass and come around him violently with a quiet scream.
“What do you want?” he asked, raising his fingers to her mouth so she could taste herself. She sucked at him desperately, laving his fingers with her tongue. He was so aroused that it felt like his body was splitting in half.
Cloud threaded their fingers together with his left hand, then raised her limp arm to the fogged glass. She was still limp and dazed against him, but he used their fingers to draw a little heart.
It was crooked and a little messy, he got the message across.
Probably.
And when Tifa turned to kiss him, her eyes were so bright with happiness that he lost his breath.
He could do this. He could make her this happy. He could do that for the rest of his life. Screw Sephiroth, screw saving the Planet, screw the rest of it. Or — he’d have to fight tooth and nail to keep this moment. To keep Tifa smiling and dazed and adoring in his arms for the rest of his life.
For her, he could find the strength. He would be her strength — the only proof that he was Cloud, her Cloud.
He kissed her forehead, a small, unconscious smile on his face.
She gave him a mischievous look, a mixture of flirtation and curiosity that always set his blood on fire. Then she placed her palms on his chest, wrapping his legs around his waist. Cloud felt her wet heat pressing against him and growled out an inhuman sound before guiding her back until the water.
He ground his hips into her, sparkling white bolts of pleasure thudding through him, kissing her passionately. Her mouth was so soft, so warm, melting him to dust. Tifa poured everything she had back into him, holding his face in her hands as she kissed and kissed and kissed him.
Cloud was abruptly cut off from the dazzling pleasure of kissing Tifa when he felt an icy rain pelt his skin.
The water was so piercingly cold that it stung. She yelped as he let go of her out of pure shock, both moving out from under the spray as they shivered in sync.
Cloud looked at Tifa. Her mouth was switching, her heaving breasts swollen and littered with pink marks, her hair soaked and tangled. She looked exquisite.
She looked like she was trying not to laugh.
He moved over to her, hugging her to him. “Should’ve known our luck would run out,” he murmured.
She looped her arms around his neck again, rising on her toes to kiss his cheek, his nose, the space between his brows. It was the kind of simple, intimate affection Cloud could not remember ever experiencing, let alone enjoying. Then Tifa began laughing in earnest, burying the sound against his chest.
“C’mon,” he said, amused by her. “Let’s get dry.”
Tifa looked up at him with wide eyes. “And then bed?”
He stroked her cheek once, twice. “You want that?”
Blushing, she nodded.
They toweled off quickly, Tifa glancing down at his admittedly excruciating hardness and biting her lip. Cloud thought he might die before he touched her again.
He drew her to him and kissed her again, careful to be gentle. Her lips were kiss-stung and swollen, and he let his tongue caress hers for a moment, blinding his senses.
They stumbled to the second bed, Cloud shoving their clothes off the sheets as Tifa ground against him, the head of him rubbing against her smooth clit. She was keening and moaning, her eyes liquid fire when she gazed up at him. He lowered her to the bed, kissing her neck and shoulders.
“We don’t have to—”
“I know,” Tifa said quickly. “But I… I want to. I mean—go slow, because I’m—I… you know.”
“We’ll have to be quiet,” he breathed, moving between her legs and slowly stroking at her. “Think you can manage that?”
“Yes—oh, oh, Cloud.”
She winced at his first movement and he halted, terrified of hurting her, but then she was squeezing her legs around him, urging him to move. It was ecstasy being inside her, a never ending stream of searing pleasure.
He canted his hips, moving slowly, luxuriously, licking at her mouth, drawing it out. She shuddered around him. He groaned into her cheek.
They moved together, her nails digging red crescents into his back as the world closed, unfolded, shattered, split apart, refurled. Cloud didn’t know where he was, who he was, what it meant — there was just Tifa, his Tifa, beneath him, around him. She wasn’t quiet, none of it was quiet. It was a blow to the skull.
It was cataclysmic.
When he pulled out, panting, to finish, Tifa watched him with a sweet look on her face. Then she crawled into his arms and sighed, low and sated.
“Thank Ifrit for the frogs,” Cloud said into her hair.
Tifa laughed. He’d heard her laughter so much today. It was his favorite sound in the world.
“Yeah,” she said, snuggling into his chest and kissing his collarbone. “I liked you better as a frog, I think.”
He nipped at her neck in retaliation. “Did you.”
“Oh, Cloud.” He began running his hands through her hair — he’d been longing to since he was six or seven — combing through the tangles. “I like every version of you.”
He considered that. “Yeah. I like every part of you too, Tifa.”
He felt the warmth and movement as she smiled against his skin. “I know.”
Gongaga was different from Junon — more somber. Aerith, in particular, seemed more quiet. Tifa’s attempts at humor, which had never been her strong suit, kept falling flat.
She smiled at Aerith anyway, pointing over to the mushrooms. “You have no idea how versatile they are.”
Aerith giggled. “Really? Could you make mushroom ice cream?”
Tifa considered the idea, wrinkling her nose. “Probably. Not sure it would taste great, though.”
Cloud was standing a few feet away from them, arms crossed. His face was stony, impassive. He’d gone right back to being their commanding, arrogant leader.
Almost.
Aerith poked Tifa’s shoulder. “Oh, look, look!”
Tifa squinted into the sea of greenery, confused. The terrain in Gongaga reminded her of the jungle, thick and lush and impossible to wade through.
“Frogs!” Aerith looked over at Cloud. “Look, Cloud!”
Tifa began to blush violently, locking eyes with him. Cloud’s eyes swirled with midnight blue, softening as he began to redden as well.
“Right,” he said after a moment. “Frogs.”
He was so going to tease her about it when they were back in their room.
“Frogs,” Tifa echoed, smiling a little. She made a silent note to send Finn and Priscilla a gift basket. Or maybe some crickets.