One Too Many

Tifa hugged her knees to her chest, staring at Cloud from across the fire that burned between their small circle of friends. A bottle of thick, syrupy rum was being passed around, and after its third rotation, Tifa had to admit that her head was beginning to swim.

"I've never drank anything like this before," Aerith admitted in a conspiratorial whisper at her side. "I tried one of my mom's wines before, but I didn't really like it."

Tifa, who owned and operated a bar, nodded but let the words drift overhead, not really landing with any significance. She'd had her fair amount of booze in her young life, tasting and sampling the products she offered in her bar. She wasn't much of a drinker, but it was always wise to have a good handle on what you were offering your customers. They loved to ask their favorite barmaid for her opinion.

It didn't matter anymore, though, because Seventh Heaven was gone and so was every spirit in it, up in flames like so many other parts of her life.

At that thought, Tifa involuntarily flinched. She turned away from the campfire, finally tearing her eyes from Cloud. She didn't notice the way that he watched her through the smoggy wave of orange and red in the darkness, the bottle now in his hands again as he tipped it back and sipped.

Aerith leaned over when she noticed Tifa turn away. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice low so as not to arouse the attention of the others (as if she could over Barret's booming voice), but still as strident as a cat's bell.

Tifa let out a sigh, debating internally on how to answer without coming across as rude. Alcohol had the tendency to throw her deeper into the despondency of her latent and underlying thoughts, and whatever this cheap stuff that Barret had picked up in the next town over was, it was succeeding quickly despite the fact she was surrounded by the company of people who were quickly becoming her closest friends. She really didn't feel much like talking, but rather stewing in her own thoughts

They were a good thirty or so miles from the Mythril Mines, and by mid-morning the next day, they would be on track to make it to Junon. The devastation in Sector Seven was still fresh on their minds - well, on Tifa's, at least - and their trials had only compounded from there. Aerith was an Ancient who was wrapped up somehow in Shinra's schemes, Sephiroth was alive and an even more dangerous threat, and then - then there had been Cloud's story in Kalm the night before.

Tifa's gaze flickered across the flames that gently puffed under the late evening breeze, falling to Cloud again. He leaned back on one elbow against a thick rock that jutted from the dirt, a knee pulled up in front of him. He was sipping at the bottle again, but Tifa noticed that even in the distance between them, those glowing blue eyes of his were on hers, piercing daggers through the night.

Aerith nudged her shoulder impatiently. "Hm?"

Tifa held in the frustrated sigh she wanted to emit, pulling her attention away from Cloud to glance to her left at Aerith. But even as she looked away, she could still feel his stare burning on her.

"I'm fine, Aerith," Tifa responded. "Just a little tired."

Aerith didn't turn away, but she also had the foresight not to press. She stared at Tifa, seeming to read something between the lines as their eyes met in the darkness. The girl's expression softened, the corners of her lips turning down in a sympathetic pout.

"You've just been so quiet since we left Kalm," Aerith was whispering now.

Tifa did sigh this time, turning away from the girl who was slowly but surely beginning to grow on her. She wasn't sure why Aerith had attached herself to her so quickly, and she had to admit she had been a bit wary of her and her peculiar behavior in the beginning. Not to mention the last thing Tifa had wanted was for any innocent civilians to get wrapped up in their entrapments and intrigue when it came to Shinra.

But it was too late to ruminate on that now, and Aerith had found a way to glue herself to their team and to Tifa especially.

The mention of Kalm had her glancing at Cloud again. She didn't want to think about it, but she was deeply disturbed by the things they listened to that night when he spoke. It had all been a jumble of misgivings and bloody, flame-charred shards against her memories, and since they left that quaint little village outside of Midgar, Tifa hadn't felt her center of gravity balance itself out right yet.

She started to pull together a response to Aerith, but Barret distracted them all with a belch and a yawn as he got to his feet, towering over their small circle. Tifa looked up at him, ignoring the way that Aerith turned and giggled at her side.

"You kids polish off the rest of that," he announced, backing away from the fire. "Think I'm gonna take it in for the rest of the night."

Tifa watched him as he turned away, and she didn't miss the way his large frame stumbled and swayed on his feet. His boots clobbered the dirt as he ambled towards his tent on the farthest side of the campsite they'd staked out, and when he was gone from view, Tifa blew her bangs out of her eyes and directed her attention back to the campfire.

It was just her, Cloud, and Aerith sitting there now - Red XIII had abandoned them in favor of a quieter place to sleep in the woods nearby once the rum had broken out. Cloud shifted his weight from one knee to the other where he sat, his eyes still on her as he leaned over and set the bottle down on the ground between them.

Tifa glanced at him when he moved, and their eyes met in the darkness again. There was something fiery in his stare, like the blue flame of a stovetop. Her heart rocked out of beat in her chest, a dull throb settling in the space behind it.

She heard Aerith hum low in her throat, and then, the girl was pushing up to her feet. She swayed slightly, and Tifa raised an eyebrow.

"I should go to bed too, Tifa," Aerith said, and Tifa heard the distinct slur of her voice. It seemed that this particular brand of hooch had snuck up on all of them more quickly than they'd thought. "If you want to talk, just wake me up, okay? I don't mind."

Tifa forced herself to smile, but when Aerith stumbled, her boot caught on an uprooted branch, Tifa started slightly, getting to her feet to make sure the girl didn't fall. But Aerith giggled and waved her away, brushing off her skirt.

"I'm fine," she emphasized, offering a sidelong glance to Cloud, who hadn't moved an inch throughout all of this. "I just need to lay down, I think. Goodnight, Tifa."

She waved at them both, dark green eyes glittering under the moonlight as she turned away and found her own tent, parked a dozen or so feet away, next to Barret's. Tifa watched as her slight form slid beneath the flaps, disappearing.

She breathed, grateful that she didn't have to worry about Aerith's prying questions. She understood that the young Ancient was just trying to help, but tonight, with spirits floating through her head, Tifa just didn't want to be bothered.

"I thought they never were going to leave," Cloud suddenly muttered across the fire.

Startled by the sound of his voice, Tifa realized then that she hadn't heard it all night. In fact, they'd both been mostly quiet since dinner, Barret and Aerith dominating the evening's conversation with their anecdotes and gripes.

Tifa thought that Cloud's comment was a little bit rude, but she kept it to herself as she looked down at her boots, fiddling absently with one shoelace. The night was growing later and the sounds of the forest began to pulse around them, the chirps of crickets and a gentle breeze blending with the quiet crackle of the fire.

Thinking on it, Tifa knew that she and Cloud hadn't spoken much since they'd left Kalm. In fact, it was unusual, but she had only herself to blame. She'd purposefully separated herself from him, distraught and unsure of what to say if they approached the subject of conversation at the inn that night. Cloud hovered around her, not unlike a distant but hesitant star, a magnetic pulse swelling between them that made the air singe with static and the hair on her arms sometimes stand up on end. But he didn't push, and every time that it seemed like he might, some intrusion got in his way.

But it had only been a day, and even that short amount of time was agonizing, akin to a lifetime. And now they were sitting here alone, nothing but a few feet of space and the quiet burn of embers between them.

As if he somehow knew what she was thinking at that very moment, Cloud suddenly got to his feet, picking up the bottle of rum and taking it with him. Tifa thought he was going to go off to take the first watch for the night, stationing himself by the edge of the campsite and leaving her there to finally be alone. She was prepared to watch him go, melancholy wrapping itself around her heart as she thought about where they were going and where they both had been, and how none of it seemed to make any sense anymore.

Except Cloud was not turning away and he was not leaving the campsite, not leaving her alone. Instead, he moved to her side, Tifa watching his boots kick up light tufts of dust as he stepped beside her.

She blinked, looking up at him, her eyes sweeping his physique in a long trail. His fatigues were rough-shodden and dirty, his sweater tight and betraying every line of his torso. Her gaze landed on his face, and those blue eyes were bright and blazing again, glowing down on her in the darkness.

He held the bottle out to her wordlessly, and Tifa accepted it without a response.

And then, he sat down next to her, just a little too close.

Maybe if he had been anyone else, it would have been too close. It might have made her uncomfortable, self-conscious, or any other number of unwanted feelings, the kinds of feelings she tried to avoid getting from other people, especially men. But this was Cloud. Despite the way things had been awkward and uneasy these last twenty-four hours, there was never any stopping the natural way that Tifa felt when he was close to her, the sense of calm that his simple presence seemed to invite.

Maybe it was the promise he'd made to her all those years ago, one that she cherished no matter how a silent part of her now thought she had been silly and childish that night. Maybe it was the way that her heart bound itself to him under those stars, a budding young love blossoming over years of separation that left it rosy in her rearview, even when wildfire colored her horizons. Maybe it was the way that he silently kept that promise, the way that he looked at her, the way that their eyes could somehow hold a conversation across a room when they never once even spoke.

They drank silently in the darkness together, sharing slow slips that they passed back and forth. The night air grew thick as the fire began to die down, smoke rising in tiny wisps as the air chilled. It reminded Tifa of the way the houses in her village burned away into piles of cinder and ash, the smoke the last thing she remembered seeing over the horizon as she hazily looked over master Zangan's shoulder.

"Tifa."

His voice called her out of her darkness, and she swam to the surface, fighting against a current of desolation. Tifa turned to Cloud at the sound of her name, his voice low and soft, pulsing with worry. He was leaning in her direction, the bottle now set off to the side, lips turned down into a thoughtful pout.

"Hm?" she mumbled. She wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't had too much to drink, she didn't think - but she could certainly feel the ebb and flow of it in her blood. Her tongue felt thick, and too many words passed through her brain, none of which felt quite right to respond with.

The sound of Cloud's voice could always do things to her - she'd been caught up in it since she'd found him at the train station a week ago, and every timber of it was just as devastating as the last. There was the calm and authoritative way that he spoke when he gave a command or a directive. There was the brusque, short-tempered flare of his tone when he was annoyed or his patience was being tempted. There was even the curious, thoughtful timber of it when he was figuring out a problem, a lighter quality that Tifa thought only she had noticed and that she had, for whatever reason, found incredibly endearing.

But there was the soft, gentle note of his voice whenever he spoke to her that left her weak-kneed, wondering if her imagination that had been born on that water tower all those years ago had any merit to the places that it sometimes ran. At first, Tifa had thought she had been mistaken - surely a man like Cloud, who had so many things going for him - couldn't be so interested or care so much for her that he would reserve a tone of voice for her. But as the days wore on, Tifa came to realize with stunning, dangerous clarity that Cloud spoke that way to her and her alone.

It made her feel warm inside, made her entire body oversensitive at just the thought of it. And it made the sting of what she worried was growing into an untenable space between them hurt even more.

If only she weren't such a coward.

"Something's wrong," Cloud stated matter-of-factly when she didn't say anything further.

And there was another thing that Tifa appreciated about Cloud, that made her (secretly) admire him all the more. He kept his words relegated to necessity, but when he did speak, he got straight to the point. He did so with conviction. And he didn't ask unnecessary questions.

Even when they had been young, Cloud had that way about him. It made him a bit of a loner, sure, but he had stood out on his own because of it. He had a strength and a quiet confidence even in those days that none of the other boys did.

She, on the other hand, had always cared what others thought of her. That too, she figured, made her a coward.

Tifa shook her head. Maybe she was weird, she mused. Her head was floating and light from drink, but her tongue was frozen. Most people, she knew, would run their mouths with a little liquid courage. For whatever reason, she just clammed up even further.

Cloud turned to face her then, angling his knees in her direction and spacing them apart a bit. Tifa noticed that Cloud often sat like that. Manspreading, Jessie had ruefully called it whenever they'd rode the trains together, and Tifa admitted that she too found it quite annoying when men would do it. However, when it came to Cloud, she found it… hot.

Her cheeks warmed when the thought crossed her, and she turned away from him.

He leaned in closer, bringing the heat of his body and the subtle, light scent that he carried. Cloud was warmer than the average person, Tifa noticed. They'd only been back together for ten short days, but she'd been close to him plenty, their bodies often pressed together. His body heat was akin to a small furnace. Tifa wanted to ask him why, at first thinking he was suffering from a fever, but she'd kept her questions to herself.

It was the mako, she reminded herself, remembering what he'd told her about his eyes. The mako heated his blood and his skin, and that warmth transplanted itself to hers whenever he was close.

He smelled clean but tainted, an earthy note of dewy and rain-scattered grass that had been punctured by bloodstains. It was a vivid but soothing scent, stirring up feelings inside of Tifa that were forbidden and suppressed but completely uncontrollable. She avoided men in Midgar as best she could, and none of them had interested her for even a second. She'd focused on survival and making the best of what could only be described as a shitty situation.

There had only been one boy who could stir those feelings inside of her, and now he was sitting right next to her, skin like fire and smelling like birchwood.

"I should apologize," he finally said.

Tifa glanced at him, finding this continued conversation utterly strange. That Cloud was still talking was bizarre in of itself - even with her, he kept his words to the minimum. But what was he was apologizing for? Tifa couldn't imagine.

"Apologize?" she finally managed to speak. "Why?"

"You've been avoiding me," Cloud replied in that simple but straight-to-the-point fashion again.

Tifa blinked, and she found herself turning her body to face his, their knees bumping gently together. Now he is making an accusation, on top of an apology?

Carbuncle, Cloud Strife could be confusing and a little bit infuriating at times.

"I don't understand," Tifa mumbled, the rum still staining her tongue. She glanced at the bottle, wanting more of it to solidify her nerves.

Cloud tipped his head at her, almost sympathetically. Tifa wondered how he could transform that boyish face into such a multitude of expressions whenever he looked at her. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest, the skin above her breastbone flushing with prickly heat even though the chill in the air had grown with the dying of their campfire.

"I mean since yesterday," he rejoined, clearing his throat a bit. His eyes were wild, and Tifa could see that the booze had started to infect him too. It was having the opposite effect on him that it did on her though, making him bold with his words. "Or the night before, whatever. In Kalm."

She blew a heavy rush of air from her lungs, puckering her lips. "I see," she muttered in response. Here it comes. Tifa wasn't ready for this conversation, and her anxiety corroded into a trifecta of sadness, regret, and guilt. "Don't worry about it."

Tifa looked away from Cloud then, already mulling an exit strategy to her tent where she could burst into tears in privacy, combing her way through everything she'd lost, her memories included. But she was shocked to feel a gloved hand wrap around hers, heavy and warm and so much larger than her own, squeezing it tight.

"Tifa," Cloud breathed her name again, almost like a prayer. "I'm sorry. I was so intent on telling the others what happened so that we could go after Sephiroth… I didn't think about what it would do to you. I - you were hurt more than anyone that day. Anyone who lived, anyway…"

He trailed off, pained by his own words. But he didn't let go of her hand. In fact, he squeezed it tighter, almost to the point that her joints hurt.

She thought again of the night that Sector Seven burned and collapsed, the night in Aerith's garden. It had all been so surreal, still was, in fact. Cloud had held her in his arms that night, and Tifa hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. It had been raw and intense, and for her, it was an overflow of feelings she had been carrying since the night she was at his side and stared up at the stars with him.

Maybe even longer than that, she had to admit.

Tonight, the stars glowed, but they weren't as bright or as pretty as they were over Nibelheim. Another memory gone, maybe forever.

The night that Sector Seven burned, Cloud hugged her so hard that her bones began to creak, his bracer digging into her flesh. She had been startled, and she had broken off the contact. Now, she realized, it had been prematurely.

"It's not your fault," she assured him, squeezing his hand back. If the only way that Cloud could touch her was so roughly and gracelessly that it hurt, she'd take it. It was better than any other pain she'd ever felt, and she was well acquainted with pain. And it was better than the pain of not being touched at all.

"It doesn't matter," he dismissed her acquiescence. "Just… I didn't mean to upset you. Let me make it up to you, Tifa."

This was new and quite surprising, Tifa thought, tilting her head at him as she absorbed his words. He was leaning in even closer, his body heat surrounding her, a warm fog that coated her exposed skin and soaked into the fabric of her clothes. His eyes were hungry and wide, devouring her as he stared, hoping to open up her soul.

What was Cloud asking her for?

"Make it up to me?" she repeated, her heart thundering now, loud enough it was certainly a drumbeat he can hear.

The fire died completely then, shrouding them in darkness before Cloud could even reply. He glanced at it, and aside from the stars, their only light was the glow of those mako blue eyes. He turned back to her, and without another word, he dropped her hand and then took her by the waist.

Tifa was startled, but she did not protest. The dichotomy of it was curious, but she found no need to question it. Cloud would put his hands on her any other time, but it was almost always out of necessity or survival, and she never protested. But this time he was touching her in a way that was a little more purposeful, in a way that had intentions behind it.

Dangerous ones.

And still, Tifa did not protest.

Instead, she shut out the furious, back-and-forth race of the thoughts of her mind, concentrating on the boy in front of her - the one who she trusted more than anyone else left on this earth, the one who was closer to her heart than anyone alive, even if they had lived years apart. She let him guide her, large, powerful hands settling over the bend just above her hips as he pulled her deftly between those spread knees, right into his lap.

She looked up at him, blinking as the wind ruffled his soft spikes of hair. Something flared in the aquamarine shuffle of his eyes, his lips shining and wet when he licked them.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, shaking his head.

Tifa didn't know why he kept sharing that sentiment, but she was now drowning in the heat of his body, sinking into that crisp, masculine scent. She curled in closer to him, silently signaling there was nothing to be sorry for.

"It's okay," she told him, glancing up with a placating smile. "I think you had one too many, Cloud."

Her giggle seemed to weaken his defenses because he offered her one of his rare smiles in return. It was tiny and shadowed, but it was warm, and once again, it was all for her.

"Any way you want," Cloud rumbled in a whisper, the wind almost stealing his voice.

Tifa blinked. "What?"

"I'll make it up to you," he repeated his earlier words. "Any way you want."

To underscore, he traced a line from her wrist to her elbow, the leather of his glove dragging along her skin. A shiver rose in its wake, gooseflesh bubbling her skin. Butterflies began to churn in her tummy, and when Cloud curled his arm around her waist, that slight buzz she had been floating in was suddenly beginning to dissipate.

"Cloud…"

They'd been close, but never this close. This was not about survival but intimacy, his legs folded around her and his arm pinning her against him possessively, his fingertips gingerly rousing the nerves beneath her skin.

At her plea of his name, Cloud leaned in and nuzzled his cheek against hers, dipping his head lower until the point of his nose tickled her throat. The soft sensation that rippled through her at that point of contact erupted with a shiver, coating every patch of skin that was exposed to the night air. Heat began to tear through her core, tense waves pouring over every tendon as his hands wandered again to her waist and hips.

"You don't have to say anything," Cloud whispered into the taut flesh of her neck. "How about you just tell me whenever you want me to stop."

Tifa had only seen Cloud drink once before, and it had been one drink inside of Seventh Heaven that hadn't seemed to have any impact on him at all. But this time, it seemed it had awakened something bold inside of him, and even though his words were soft and his touch was gentle, every action masked something hidden and feral.

The thought of it made her wild inside, secret dreams and fantasies that she had tried so hard to bury unearthing themselves as every second ticked by. It had been foolish of her to try to suppress them all this time, because now they were here and Cloud was being so demanding that she knew she would give him anything he wanted, would take from him whatever he would give.

"But," she huffed when he began to pepper her collarbone with soft kisses, his hands now under her ribcage and his fingers brushing along the underside of her breasts. They felt so heavy and achy, the feeling worsened the more that he touched. "The others…"

She trailed off, glancing at Aerith and Barret's tents in the short distance. The fire had burned out, and it was almost too dark now to see their shapes just beyond. But they were there, and this knowledge made her blood thrum so loudly it was a rhythm in her ears.

Cloud bit into the base of her throat, sending a spark between her thighs, right to the tiny bud that would pulse whenever he would look at her a certain way or close his arms around her in the heat of a precarious moment. She tried to ignore the throb, but the insistent yet agonizingly sweet way he handled her made the sensations too vivid and too difficult to ignore.

"They're drunk and asleep," Cloud groaned, swiping his lips up the column of her throat. Shiva, they were soft. "As long as we're quiet, we're okay."

He said everything with such simple reassurance that Tifa couldn't deny him even if she wanted to. And she absolutely did not want to - no matter what was happening around them or what happened in their pasts, to be with Cloud in a private, intimate fashion, to be close to him like this and at his side, was a dream she thought would never come true.

She nodded, and before she could verbalize her agreement, his lips raised to hers. They found hers in their very first kiss, and it unfolded in a way that she would never have imagined before, under the glow of muted stars in the wilderness, while the final embers of the last dying fire they'd laid eyes on faded in front of them.

Left in darkness, Tifa surrendered herself to Cloud's kiss, surrendered everything to him at that moment, her arms looping around his neck. Encouraged by her eager response, his lips grew hungry, a soft, tentative press turning eager and demanding. When his tongue reached out for hers, Tifa felt the swell of desire swarm through her bones, her nipples stiffening as he brushed over them with carefully seeking thumbs. How could he handle her with the strength his body carried so plainly displayed, yet still be so cautiously restrained? If he wanted to, he could break her in half where he sat. Yet he handled her like glass.

The thought only made her melt for him, her thighs widening between his legs as she moaned desperately in his mouth.

She was losing herself to passion, but Cloud shushed her harshly, pushing her tops above her breasts so they were exposed. Gently, he squeezed each of her full tits in hand, his lips never leaving hers, their kisses guiding her through this new experience. Tifa had never even kissed a boy, let alone let any see or touch her in such a blatantly sexual manner. But that Cloud, who she loved so desperately but so quietly, was handling her this way, opened up new wavelengths inside of her. It was more than just a dream come true; it was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed every sad memory, leaving her only with the truth and the affection behind his touch.

It might not last for more than a moment, she thought as she gave herself to Cloud's kisses, nipping at his mouth with a fervor she didn't even know she possessed, but she would take any respite she could get, especially when it felt like his.

Tifa knew that Cloud was strong, but it became particularly apparent how strong he was when he dipped her body lower with a hand secure against her back, his mouth leaving hers to slip down to her exposed breasts and her stiffened nipples. He captured one in his mouth, sucking it gently and looping his tongue over it, and Tifa gasped, her mouth wide open as she felt herself become weightless.

"Shhh," he warned her again, gently biting her nipple as chastisement.

She was hot from head to toe, a shiver racing through her body and piercing her spine. Her center was slick, feverish heat wet and pooling against the fabric of her panties. She felt like she might be suffocating, but Cloud anchored her to him, pulling her in close so that he could kiss her mouth again.

She savored it, but she had no idea that his kisses were meant to stifle her moans and cries when his free hand suddenly danced between her legs. Leather swept a long, slow line along her inner thigh, plucking playfully at the hem of her stocking before squeezing the thick flesh closest to her pulsing, hidden heat. Without warning, he gently cupped her over her panties, pressing his palm against her sex and rubbing a slow circle with her in his hand. Her clit throbbed, and Tifa whimpered and squirmed anxiously in his lap, clawing at the back of his head.

"Calm down," Cloud broke their kiss just long enough to whisper. "Hold onto me, bite my shoulder, do whatever you need to do. I'm right here, Tifa."

He lowered his fingers, brushing three in a swipe along her seam, applying pressure gently but firmly. The pleasure seared her brain. How did he know how to do this so well? She didn't want to think about it, instead squeezing her arms around his shoulders, trying to contain her moans.

"I'm right here," he reaffirmed consolingly.

Tifa buried her face into his neck, the soft fabric of his sweater tickling her cheek. His arm stayed steady around her waist, and his fingers pursued, passing in lines over her underwear. It was tormenting, pulses of beaming pleasure she'd never experienced scorching her and pulling the tension as tight as bowstrings in her body. He nuzzled her again, kissing the side of her face as gloved fingertips pushed her panties to the side, hidden by the pleats of her skirt.

Tifa knew she was wet, but she had no idea how wet until Cloud's leather-bound fingers were sliding through her folds. Minerva, he was gentle, but the firm slickness of those digits over her sensitive skin was unraveling her, her knees weak, her pulse racing, her breath escaping in tiny pants. She did her best to obey him, sucking her desperate whines and cries under her breath, burying her face into his shoulder to hide the wildness that grew inside of her.

Cloud rubbed her back with his other hand while his fingers combed through her folds, parting them gently, his smooth leather gliding over her dewy flesh. Tifa inhaled sharply, fingernails scraping his scalp as she clutched desperately at his soft, golden blond hair. Everything about Cloud was a comfort to her, like being back at home, even when he had her bared open and spread like this.

His fingertip slid around her opening, teasing her gently and playing haplessly in her wetness while Tifa rotated her hips with frantic urgency. She sighed into his neck and Cloud pulled back just enough so they could meet eyes, and he smiled at the way she pouted at him, offering her another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Please," Tifa heard herself plea. When had she become so needy? She'd thought of Cloud this way often, so many naughty and forlorn thoughts had crossed her mind concerning him. But she never thought she would beg.

Cloud kissed her one more time and then crushed her body to his, his arm pinning her closer, securing her tighter. Two fingers swam over her slit, followed by a third, and just when Tifa thought her body was going to break apart with want, he began to carefully circle her clit, dragging her wetness along with his fingertips.

Nothing had ever felt so good and Tifa held him tighter and cried into his shoulder, unable to hold it in. She was so accustomed to pain - all kinds of pain, bruising pain and hidden, ghostlike pain - that this sort of unbridled pleasure was unfathomable. But the emotional attachment she felt to Cloud was what was sending her closer to and closer to the edge, her hips twirling and her knees scraping into the dirt, her body pressing against his and nearly toppling him over as she sought release.

Cloud was reading her mind again because he was whispering to her. "I've got you, Tifa," he purred against the sensitive flesh of her earlobe. "Just let go."

Tifa was used to him giving her commands on the battlefield but this was altogether something different, him commanding her body this way. She felt wound up and tight like the gears of a clock or a child's robotic toy, her strings about to snap. Two of his fingers sank inside her while his thumb rubbed at her aching clit, tapping at her while stretching her narrow passage that was tight and had been waiting for him and him all along. The slick feel of him rubbing and gently pumping into her severed her nerves, beaming starlight into her veins as ecstasy gripped her. She bit into his shoulder the way he'd told her to, pinching her eyes closed as she sobbed quietly into his sweater.

She had no idea what to expect when her climax finally took her, but when it did she was shivering and weeping in bliss, clenching his fingers to her walls while her clit pulsed against his thumb through every wave. Cloud tightened his hold on her and whispered something soft, words that didn't seem coherent. Maybe, she thought as the euphoria closed her in, she was dreaming all of this.

Cloud rocked her in his arms, holding her until she quieted and calmed. Eventually, she ceased her quiet cries and rubbed her face against his chest, wiping away her tears. Carefully, Cloud slid his hand from under her skirt, fixing her panties and pulling his gloves off with his teeth and tossing them to the side.

Tifa watched him in a daze, wondering again what he was doing and what was happening between them. But she was too happy to think too long on it, especially when he brushed her hair out of her face with his now gloveless fingers, his skin soft and warm against her cheek.

"Better?" he asked her softly, tipping her chin up to look at him.

Tifa couldn't answer. Her entire body was in a state of shock, blissful and full of adoration. His eyes were almost fully cobalt blue, the rage of mako quiet in them now, the blaze quelled.

When she stayed silent, he kissed her again, folding his arms around her tight, cradling her in his lap. He held her that way for the rest of the night, warming her with his body and his simmering love and affection, his hands in her hair and on her skin.

In the morning, it was Red XIII who found them, still wrapped up together in front of the deadened fire. Cloud had kept watch for most of the night, and Tifa caught the silent exchange between man and beast, assured their secret was safe with him.

And when Red padded away, Cloud let her sleep for just a little while longer.

It didn't matter what it all meant.

He was there.

Always.