This is the first drabble I've written as a direct result of playing the remake. This one is spoiler-free. And borderline crack. Because I had the thought: "Is that supposed to be Tifa's view?" when thinking about this particular part.

Title: Venting

There was nothing sexy about crawling around in Shinra's dusty air ducts. Air ducts they'd entered from the men's restroom, no less, which had her feeling both vaguely nauseous and socially uncomfortable. But Tifa was crawling around in them with Cloud, whose very presence seemed charged, and so her thoughts kept wandering in an inappropriate direction.

In the tight quarters, they were close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. Close enough his hip brushed against her breast with every forward movement. Close enough her head was practically in his armpit every time he paused–which, again, should not have been sexy or comfortable. They'd spent the day running back and forth between the sectors, fighting monsters, and even slogging through the sewers for the second time in two days. Cloud should be ripe, and his armpits foul. But somehow he just smelled like... Cloud. That vague birch-like tang of mako, mingled with a hint of smoke and spice and salt. Maybe the faintest scent of Elmyra's sunbathing chocobo fabric softener underneath it all.

And it was surrounding her, filling her head with him. She could happily turn and snuggle against him, just breathing it in and letting it make her go boneless between the combined feelings of safety and heat.

Which made things awkward. Because this was not a sexy or romantic endeavor, and she should be focused on why they were here, in the heart of enemy territory so to speak, not marveling at how good Cloud smelled. Or belatedly realizing how horrible she must smell. Whatever trick SOLDIERS had to avoid smelling rank, bartenders did not know or possess. Her preference would have been to shower for a week before being this close to anyone, much less Cloud. Goddess Minerva, he must be miserable in this tiny metal corridor with me and my stench.

The thought made her slow down a bit in an effort to let him pull away enough to breathe.

Instead, he stopped. "Tifa? Something wrong?"

Heat immediately blossomed in her cheeks. "Ah... no. I just realized I was crowding you." That was a reasonable excuse, right?

"It's fine. I told you to stay close."

And he reached back to offer her his left hand so he could pull her right back up under his armpit again. The casual, easy strength of it was knee-weakening all on its own, but the motion of her body sliding forward next to his generated a brief gust of air, twining his scent around her once more.

It really wasn't fair that he could smell so... huggable. And after the last two days, she could use all the hugs she could get.

Frustrated, she dropped her head to bounce lightly against the duct in an effort to knock some sense into herself. Or meant to; Cloud slid forward just as her head came down, so instead she bounced it off of his hip. Not so lightly, since she came up about four inches shorter than intended.

And the man didn't possess an ounce of fat. She tried, but couldn't quite stifle the pained whimper upon contact.

Once more, Cloud stopped.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He reached back again, this time to brush her bangs away and run a careful thumb across her forehead.

"Yes." Other than the crushing embarrassment. "I just slipped. Sorry."

"It's fine," he repeated, gaze still roving over her face, arms, and shoulders, checking for injuries. "I'll go a little slower."

Tifa nodded, fighting the urge to bang her head again. Going slower would not solve her inability to focus. If anything, it would make it worse. But she could hardly tell him what the issue was, could she? That she couldn't think with him this close, smelling inexplicably wonderful and radiating heat like a small chocobo-headed sun? No, she'd just have to suffer through it. Through the little shivers and vacant imaginings that spawned from the brush of his body against hers, and the urge to wrap herself in his scent and warmth until everything else faded away like a bad dream.

Another bend in the duct had Cloud pausing to get a better look at her, and she managed to nod firmly in response to the unasked questions in his oh-so-blue eyes. Everything's fine. Nothing wrong here. Then she let her breath out in a long, slow sigh as soon as he turned away. Where her focus was non-existent, he seemed to have it in spades–and for those few moments it had all been centered on her.

Guh.

She needed to get out of this hot box before she did something rash. It hadn't taken long to walk from the conference room to the men's room. Surely they had to be getting close?

Thankfully, they found the correct vent scant moments later, and the combined callousness of the Shinra executives, coupled with Hojo's plans to breed Aerith like a prize chocobo jolted her brain out of its Cloud-befogged state and back into the here-and-now.

5/12/20: Made a slight change to note what fragrance fabric softener Elymra uses. On my second playthrough I noticed that "sunbathing chocobo" is a fragrance of fabric softener actually mentioned in the game, at least twice, in the sector 5 slums. Once in the day by a kid selling it, once at night by two ladies talking about using it. And that's just too funny not to be specifically mentioned.