A/N: This episode of Dork 1 and Dork 2 dancing around their feelings is brought to you by our new official sponsor, Marle_Nadia, and our regular one, Karmi. Everyone say thank you.

(No, we do not talk about the increased chapter count.)

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Waltz No.2 - Shostakovich / F. Noack

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A Sea of Silence

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9: Waltz No.2

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Tifa stares at her coffee brewer with an absent mind, not having realized it has stopped dripping. It's only at the sound of her toasts being ready that she blinks, coming out of her daydream. She shakes off the stray thoughts clinging to her and finishes getting her breakfast ready. Cloud is still sleeping, which isn't surprising considering how early it is—Tifa rarely gets up at seven on a Saturday, but she woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. Plate in hand, she walks to her couch and sits cross-legged; the low volume of the TV provides a background noise she hopes will drown out her thoughts.

It doesn't work, of course—the piano is in her periphery and all she really sees. It beckons her to come closer, but Tifa stays where she is, eyes on the TV and eating her breakfast. She finds out quickly she isn't that hungry and puts the plate down on the table. Half an hour later, noise from the back of the apartment lets her know Cloud must be getting up; Tifa closes her eyes, her heartbeat accelerating at the idea of talking to him. It's not that she doesn't want to—if she had the courage to be honest with him, she would ask if things have changed for him, too. But the potential reactions to that conversation scare her, even more so soon after having realized her feelings have evolved beyond friendship. It's better to wait a little, she thinks as Cloud walks into the living room and gives her a lazy smile as a greeting—she's not ready to lose what they already have.

"I made coffee," she says, turning back to the TV.

Cloud's footsteps stop behind the couch like he hesitated, but then he goes into the kitchen. When he sits down next to her with a plate and a mug of his own, Tifa does her best to appear casual despite his nearness making her nervous.

"I have to work at ten," he says before taking a gulp of coffee. "Is it okay if I hang out here until then?"

Tifa nods. "Yeah, that's fine."

To her surprise, Cloud places down his plate next to hers and twists to face her. When he reaches out to cradle her cheek, turning her face so she has to look at him, Tifa almost breaks away; instead, she stares at a point beyond his shoulder.

"Hey, I know something's wrong." There's a firmness to his voice that tells her he won't let this go. "You haven't really looked at me since last night."

Though she knows it is the easy way out, Tifa still says, "Nothing's wrong."

"Is it because of the piano?"

The sudden tautness of her body gives her away, but Cloud says nothing, only waits for her to confirm the unspoken.

"Yes," she whispers. There is no point in lying about it.

Cloud pulls his hand back to his side. "I thought so, but I didn't want to push." He glances away for a second before focusing on her again. "I'm sure it must have been difficult to play considering…"

He trails off, a sliver of frustration in his eyes, and Tifa realizes it stems from her never sharing the reasons she stopped playing. The thought that he wants to understand is both warming and terrifying—it implies too many things at once. Zack's words about Cloud caring for her sound in her mind but are then replaced by Cloud reinforcing the notion of them being friends. Tifa knows one does not negate the other, and now they amalgamate into something indivisible—she can't see either possibility on its own anymore.

If she tells Cloud about the piano, it opens the door for her to speak of her feelings, of where to go from here. Though Tifa doesn't feel ready for that, part of her still wants to take the chance—and so she decides to test the waters.

"I played until I was seventeen," she says, her voice holding a cautious note. "My mother taught me."

At her admission, Cloud's eyes lose that frustrated haze; he nods, encouraging her to continue.

"She died, and I…stopped playing. As she—" Tifa takes a deep breath. "She was listening to me play as she passed." He stays silent, and she is glad for it, not sure she'd be able to continue if he interrupted. Her hands twist in her lap; once she notices her fidgeting, she forces herself to stop. "It was the piece that played in the car that one time." The meekness of her voice betrays her rising anxiety. "That's why I get like this with music sometimes."

Cloud's stare is heavy on her, but she avoids it. Her confession hangs between them, and he only speaks once it becomes obvious she's done.

"Last night, when you played, I didn't realize it," he says. "But when I woke up and you were still playing, I don't know it clicked into place. How important it was to you, I mean." Cloud bends forward so she has no choice but to look at him; as her eyes meet his, Tifa's throat closes up. "Tifa, I know you played to make me feel better, and I'm so grateful you did. But that's not what matters." At her involuntary flinch, he sighs. "I'm sorry, I must be saying this all wrong."

"Maybe a little," Tifa says, a touch of resentment shining through.

He shifts on the couch so he sits closer and leans into her space a little like he's afraid she'll escape. "I'm just trying to say… After seeing how difficult it was for you, I love that you could play, you know? I love that you found that again."

Tifa inhales sharply; it feels as if the world stopped and everything froze except the crazed rhythm of her pulse.

Her lack of answer doesn't deter Cloud. "That's what I mean when I said it didn't matter. Not that it really doesn't, but—" He cuts himself off with an irritated huff. "I'm not good at this, but all I want to say is what really counts is that you played. No matter the reason. You did it, Tifa," he adds softly.

The last words break her control, and tears fall before she even absorbs what he said. That he dismissed why she played hurts a little, but she barely feels it, too overwhelmed as the full realization of last night slams into her. She had focused on the reason for her playing because it had been easier than to think back on her mother, weak but smiling; on the terror at the notion of playing at the funeral; on the last time she played a piece, that time she recorded herself for her mother without knowing it would be the final one. Tifa covers her face with her hands as her tears escalate into sobs. There's both an immense sadness and a frightful deliverance taking over her, and she can't do anything but be swept along.

"Tifa…" Cloud's hands are gentle as he tugs on her arms so she can't hide her face anymore. She doesn't resist despite him not using any serious strength. "You're always the one helping and listening to me. Let me be there for you this time." He pulls her into his chest, giving her the time to break away if she wanted, and tucks her head in the crook of his shoulder.

Tifa doesn't know how long he holds her—long enough for her loud sobs to ease into short, muted ones and then into silent tears. Still, he keeps her against him, one hand running a careful, lazy trail through her hair. It's soothing, and Tifa concentrates on the sensation to regain control of her breathing. Her heart clenches as it becomes obvious Cloud will give her all the time she needs; it's the tinge of pain at the thought that finally makes her pull away, though she can't find the will to go far. Tifa wipes the remains of her tears away with the back of her hands. She goes to apologize for crying but holds the words down. There's nothing to apologize for, really, and she knows Cloud wouldn't want her to.

"Thank you," she says instead.

A tiny frown betrays his worry. "Are you feeling a little better?"

She nods and tries to give him a smile, but can't manage it. "Yes."

"Okay, that's good." The unmasked kindness seeping from his voice makes her breath hitch. "You should finish eating," he says, gesturing at her discarded plate.

"I'm not hungry."

"Okay. Anything you want to do?"

The question makes her think of his earlier comment about him working at ten. "I'll be fine, Cloud. You should go get ready for your day."

There's no ignoring the slight puzzlement etched in his features. "I'm literally next door, it's not a big deal. What do you want to do?" he asks again, this time more insistent.

Tifa looks down at her lap as she admits, "I want to practice. And play some more."

His answer is immediate—and so simple, yet it kindles a spark within her. "Can I listen?"

"Yeah, if you want," she says.

He gives her a you-know-I-do look in reply, and her smile, though slight, comes naturally this time. Tifa riffles through the box of partitions she had left on the table last night. Cloud peeks over her shoulder; she can sense the warmth of his body despite them not touching.

"Oh, I didn't know there was a piano version of that piece." He reaches around her to pick up a partition. "Always liked it."

Tifa glances at the title—Shostakovich's Waltz No.2 arranged by F. Noack—before continuing to look. "Yeah, it's a nice one, too."

Cloud puts the booklet down on the table. His quiet presence behind her brings back her nervousness, though it washes over her in a soft wave, nowhere as forceful as earlier. Tifa stops searching through the partitions and turns to him; he is close enough that she has to tilt back her head a bit. The movement catches Cloud's attention, and he twists to look at her.

Before he can speak, Tifa says, "I want to ask for something." She bites her lip as she notes how his focus shifts to her as if he is worried again even though his features stay relaxed.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Can you kiss me?" In the back of her mind, Tifa thinks of how strange it is for her to sound so steady when it's the opposite of how she feels. Cloud blinks, taken aback, and then lets out a chuckle. For some reason, she feels compelled to add, "I just want a kiss."

Cloud's soft laughter dies, then, and in the ensuing pause, she is afraid she said something wrong. But he cups the back of her head, forcing it back a little more, and leans in to kiss her. A sigh of surprise escapes her at the fervor of his mouth on her; she yields to his kiss, a certain calm settling over her. When he pulls back, his teeth grazing her bottom lip, Tifa follows him. Cloud laughs again, and she swallows down the sound.

"I thought you just wanted a kiss," he whispers.

"I do." She lays a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and breaks away from him. The air is cold around her suddenly, but she choses to ignore it—as well as Cloud's curious stare. "I'll play for a while. Don't complain when I make mistakes," she says with a mock-glare. Tifa holds her breath as she waits to see if Cloud will let the topic of the kiss go.

Thankfully, he does. "I would never." An amused smile punctuates his statement.

"Good."

Tifa stands with random partitions in her hands; she drops them on the piano and sits at the bench, glad to be facing away from Cloud for a moment. As she opens the first booklet and sees it's Shostakovich's Waltz No.2, her heart constricts minutely.

She won't talk to him about her feelings for now, she thinks as she starts sight-reading the right-hand section. Waiting a little to see how to handle things from there seems reasonable. She pretends not to notice the flare-up of apprehension at the thought of losing what they have.

For now, it will have to be enough.

—

"Do you think this is too much?"

Tifa doesn't even glance in Aerith's direction. "Yes." The answering huff makes her smile.

"You could at least pretend," Aerith says as she walks up to Tifa. She brings the bustier top she had been looking at with her so there is no avoiding it. "Is this too much?"

With a sigh, Tifa turns to assess the top. It's not as bad as half the things Aerith chose so far—cropped and made of a darkened royal blue velvet, with wide straps for the shoulder. "It's not terrible," Tifa concedes, "but I think another color would suit you better."

"It's for you, silly."

"Oh."

Aerith waves the top around; it almost slips off the hanger. "So? You'd look hot."

"Do I need to, though?"

"Yes," Aerith says with too much patience for Tifa's taste. It means she's ready to argue until her point is proven. "Everyone has to look hot on New Year's Eve."

Despite herself, Tifa chuckles and takes the hanger. "Fine. I'll try it on."

Aerith continues wandering around the store as Tifa tries on the top. To her surprise, she likes it more than she had anticipated; the only downside is how exposed she feels at the amount of skin showing. Footsteps sound near the cabin, followed by a knock.

"Show me, I know it looks great."

Tifa shakes her head at Aerith's confidence. Her friend snickers as Tifa opens the door to the cabin.

"I knew it. You look amazing."

"It fits well," Tifa admits grudgingly.

"Well is an understatement." Aerith waves her hand around. "You're buying it."

Tifa goes to argue but reins the urge in; she hadn't expected to buy clothes for herself today. When Aerith said she wanted to go shopping for Zack's New Year party, Tifa had understood the shopping would be for her friend, not for her. Still, she can't deny she likes the top.

"Fine." She adds a lengthy sigh for drama's sake. "I'll get it. But I'm wearing a jacket."

"Deal," Aerith says without hesitating.

Once Tifa has changed back into her clothes, they walk around the store one more time, and Aerith focuses on finding something for herself now that she accomplished her initial mission.

"How is your Dad doing?"

Aerith's question startles Tifa, who almost drops the pack of stockings she was checking out. "Okay, I guess. A little sad I didn't go home for Christmas, but he couldn't pay for the ticket and neither could I."

"Ah, yes." Aerith nods her head several times. "Because you bought a piano. Did you explain that part?"

"No," Tifa says, keeping her eyes down as she browses through the rack. "I don't want to give him false hopes."

"But you said you started playing again. I'm sure he'd love to know."

With a sigh, Tifa moves on to the next rack. "Yeah, he would. But it's so new, and I don't want to—" She trails off as she spots tights that seem interesting but then carries on. "I don't want him to be disappointed if I end up, you know, not continuing."

Aerith makes a soft noise of reprimand. "Tifa, you know he wouldn't be disappointed because of that."

"Alright, maybe not disappointed. You still get my point." Tifa picks up the tights she had spotted—the tightly knit fishnet fabric is dotted with clear rhinestones. But it's the image of the model wearing them on the box that grabs her attention. These really are thigh highs with an attached garter so they can stay up without trouble.

Tifa's sudden silence as she stares at the box alerts Aerith, and she comes over to her side.

"Ooooh," she says as she spies what Tifa was looking at. "Yes."

It's hard for Tifa to bite back her smile. "Yes, what?"

"Just yes. Yes, they're hot. Yes, you're getting them."

Tifa laughs as she searches for her size. As she finds a pair, excitement builds within her—there is no doubt these will rile up Cloud, and she can't pretend she doesn't enjoy that a little.

"You'll look so hot, nobody will be able to resist you," Aerith comments as they finish their round of the store.

"Is that the goal here?" Tifa feels her cheeks heat a little when it becomes obvious the silent-but-amused cashier overheard her friend.

"No, but it's a bonus."

It is, Tifa thinks—if she doesn't get a reaction out of Cloud with this, she won't deny she'll be a little disappointed, but she also just really likes what she bought today. She thanks the cashier, and they walk out of the store. The streets are packed with shoppers aiming to get the best deals, making getting back to the car more difficult than it should be. Once they reach it and drive off in the downtown traffic, Aerith fiddles with her phone, uncharacteristically silent.

"You okay?"

Her head snaps up. "Yes, I'm just hoping everything goes well tomorrow."

"At Zack's party?" Tifa frowns. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Yuffie and Reno are coming." Aerith puts the phone away in her handbag. "And he's still pissed about his car." Tifa's attempt at hiding her smirk doesn't fool Aerith. "Come on, glitter in the car? You'd be pissed, too."

Tifa chuckles. "Yeah, I would be. That's why I suggested it."

"You did? Tifa!" The shock in Aerith's voice is clear, but then a loud laugh overtakes her. "That's—I can't believe you're the one who thought of that."

"Why not?" Tifa pulls to a stop in front of the apartment complex Aerith lives in. "I have good ideas sometimes."

Aerith's words are punctuated with laughter as she says, "That's not what I meant."

"Uh-uh."

"Now I know not to get on your bad side." With a parting grin, Aerith opens the door and steps out. "Is nine still good for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll come pick you up."

"Perfect." Aerith wiggles her fingers in a wave and shuts the door.

The remainder of the evening passes too quickly for Tifa as she finishes her chores for the week, crashing into bed not even five minutes past ten. She spends the next day lazing around, enjoying it. It's become much natural for her to accept the urge to play the piano since that conversation with Cloud two weeks ago—it still scares her and most days it gets frustrating as her fingers stumble over the keys, but there's always a sort of satisfaction coursing through her by the end.

A little before eight, she stops practicing, liking the progress she made. Tifa takes out the top and thigh highs she bought yesterday and slips them on along with a black pleated skirt. She observes her reflection, some shyness creeping upon her—the attached garters show every time the skirt lifts as she moves. It's nothing more than a peek, and she had counted on that. For a second she hesitates, but the sparkle of the rhinestones reminds her this is the night to wear this kind of outfit. She picks a black band choker with a hanging moon that rests in the hollow of her throat; the moment she puts on her jacket, she feels whatever shyness was left evaporate. The black bomber jacket is big enough for her to swim in, and it tones down the outfit so she won't feel self-conscious about it. She slips her feet into her black combat boots and heads out to pick up Aerith.

Her friend whistles when she gets into the car; a smirk tilts up her lips, but it's her silence that makes Tifa roll her eyes. Aerith wears a pink satin dress she found yesterday; the low back is covered by her black moto jacket.

"Zack is gonna drool," Tifa says as a greeting. She pulls away from the curb and drives them towards Zack's house.

Aerith's smirk gets bigger. "Good. So—" She cuts herself off but then continues, "So will Cloud, by the way."

Tifa keeps her eyes on the road, making an effort not to let her disquiet show. "Will he?"

"Tifa." The way Aerith says her name makes her think she's being scolded. "He's always looking at your legs."

The relief and surprise at the comment are too much for Tifa, and she snorts. "He does?"

"Oh, yeah. He's not very subtle."

They chat until Zack's house comes into view; Tifa parks into the driveway as he had instructed her since Aerith and her planned on staying the night. People already fill the house, making it difficult to find their friends.

"I didn't realize Zack knew so many people," Tifa tells Aerith as they navigate the crowd hand-in-hand.

Aerith throws her a wry look over her shoulder. "Between him and his three roommates, they know the whole school."

They find Zack in what Tifa imagines is a large living room; now all the furniture has been pushed against the walls to make even more space. He moves from the people he was chatting with the second he spots his girlfriend.

Zack wraps an arm around both of their shoulders. "You two look amazing," he says with a huge grin.

"We tried." Aerith's sly smile returns. "Where is Cloud?"

It takes a lot out of Tifa not to roll her eyes at Zack's answering smirk. "Around somewhere. He hid when Reno got here ten minutes ago."

"He hid?" Tifa asks as she slips from under Zack's arm.

He laughs at her skepticism. "We both know it was an excuse to go chill somewhere quiet."

Tifa glances around, at once realizing how many people there are and how uncomfortable Cloud must be. "Do you know where?"

"Nope." The knowing glint in his gaze tells her otherwise. "Give him some time and he'll have drunk enough to come out of hiding."

As she goes to protest, someone tackles her into a hug from behind; Tifa yelps in surprise but smiles when she recognizes Yuffie's voice. "Finally."

Tifa laughs when Yuffie keeps clinging to her. "Were you that bored?"

"I'm just happy you two got here."

Aerith exchanges an amused look with Tifa—they both know Yuffie must have drank already for her to be this affectionate. "Where is my hug, uh?"

Yuffie lets go of Tifa to wrap her arms around Aerith, who almost stumbles in her heels from the strength of it.

"Stealing my girlfriend." Zack makes a disapproving noise and tugs Aerith out of Yuffie's grasp. "You have no shame."

"Fine," Yuffie whines, dragging the last syllable. "I'll just steal Tifa since she has no boyfriend." She links her arm with Tifa's and steers her away.

Though the comment wasn't meant to be hurtful, Tifa still feels a sharp sting in her chest. She hasn't found the courage to speak to Cloud about this yet. But then she reminds herself she had decided not to let it bother her tonight—tonight is supposed to be fun, so she exhales the pain before filing these thoughts away.

When Yuffie stops before Reno and some of his friends, Tifa holds in her mirth, remembering her conversation with Aerith yesterday. He turns his attention to them, and she's glad to see how relaxed he is. It recalls that time they went to the bar and the truce he made with Zack then—she hopes the same will apply here.

"Hey, Tifa," he says with a grin. "Looking good."

She glances at the LED shutter shades perched on his forehead and then down at his silk shirt gaping open to display his chest; the dark green color paired with his hair only makes her think of Christmas decorations. If she could be bothered, she'd tell him he looks ridiculous. "You too," she lies instead. "I like the color."

But her dry tone flies over Reno's head. "Thank, I thought it'd be nice with my hair. Complementary colors." He winks.

Tifa pinches her lips together to hold in the laughter threatening to burst out. When she realizes he expects a reply, she manages to say, "Yes, of course."

She stays for a few minutes for Yuffie's sake, but Reno and his friends' obnoxious shouts get too much to handle, so she slips away after telling Yuffie she's getting something to drink. The crowd has only gotten thicker since she and Aerith arrived, making it hard for her to find anyone. The house Zack shares with his roommates is big enough for Tifa to wander awhile. As she walks by one room, the door opens, startling Tifa; she turns to see Cloud standing in the doorway to what seems to be a bedroom. He blinks in surprise at seeing her, and she notices how little tension his shoulders carry. Zack was right in saying Cloud would appear after having drank.

"So this is where you were hiding?" Tifa asks with a teasing smile.

Cloud says nothing as his eyes go down her body to find her legs. She lifts an arm to run her hand through her hair. The movement causes the skirt to rise a little, just enough to expose the attached garters, and Tifa has to hold in the urge to laugh; any doubts she had about her outfit vanish when he curses. He pulls her into the room and shuts the door, pushing her against it and kissing her before she can say anything. His hands slide over her thighs and up under her skirt, but Tifa slaps them away.

"You're so impatient," she whispers against his mouth.

Cloud pulls back to send her a wry look; his hands return to his side. "I'm starting to think you enjoy torturing me."

She hums. "You wouldn't be wrong."

To her shock, his expression turns sulky. "Fine," he sighs.

"Are you pouting?" Laughter finally escapes her.

He schools his features at once. "No."

The drink must have lowered his inhibitions, Tifa thinks—and she can't say she doesn't like this side of him.

"Okay," she says, playing along. "Wanna help me find the others?"

Cloud huffs but then nods. "Sure. But I'm getting another drink first."

They make a detour for the kitchen, and he grabs two beers, handing her one as a question. Tifa takes it with a smile, and they walk around until Tifa spots LED lights on top of someone's head. Pink satin flashes next to them, letting her know Aerith is also there.

"Found Reno," she says.

Tifa leads them that way; Zack lets out a pleased shout when they appear next to him.

"You got him to join the living! Great job." He presents his hand for a high-five, and Tifa complies with a slight smile.

"Fuck you." Cloud says it with such a straight face that she would almost think he means it.

Reno raises his bottle as if to salute the sentiment. Cloud takes a sip of his beer, and Tifa frowns at the wicked glint in his eyes.

"Did you guys see the walking Christmas tree?" he asks while staring at Reno.

Tifa chokes on the beer she'd been drinking—she can't deny that with the green of the shirt mixed with his red hair and the LED shades, Reno fits the part. She bites her lip when Reno squints in confusion and then turns around.

"What tree?"

Across her, Zack howls with laughter, Aerith joining in; tears leak out of the corner of his eyes as he tries to calm down. Still, Reno looks perplexed, but he just rolls his eyes as if giving up on understanding. Next to him, Yuffie rubs her forehead, her exasperation palpable.

"One night. I asked for one fucking night of peace."

Cloud shrugs, unapologetic, and takes a bigger swing of his drink.

"Yes, yes, of course," Zack says, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.

Aerith's shoulders shake as she does her best to contain her giggling, and Tifa gives in, allowing herself a smile.

"You guys are fucking weird." Reno shakes his head, and his enduring obliviousness only sets Zack off again.

Tifa can't help her next comment as she notices the dusting of glitter stuck to his chest. "Reno, you know your chest is sparkling, right?"

He blinks as if he can't comprehend her meaning, but then looks down at himself. "Fucking hell! It's been two weeks and I still have that shit everywhere!" He glowers at Zack, who can barely hide his snicker. "Fuck you, Fair. I'm outta here." He turns on his heels, giving them the finger over his shoulder as he walks off.

"Fuck, he is so dumb sometimes," Yuffie says. "I don't know how he does it." She points at herself, the movement clumsy; her drinks sloshes over the edge of the cup and unto the floor. "I told him not to wear that shirt. And! And he had to wear it like that."

"What about the shades?" Cloud asks, nodding along. "Those are pretty bad, too."

"Right! He looks like a fucking tool!"

Zack elbows Aerith. "Twenty bucks they break up?"

She shares a knowing glance with Tifa—they're both aware that won't happen. "You're on."

Yuffie doesn't hear them, too caught up in her tirade. Her arm swings in a wide arc as if she is showcasing something; Tifa steps back to avoid being splashed. "If you guys had seen the other options. He could have at least buttoned the fucking shirt. I dropped so many hints about him looking ridiculous, and still!" She sighs. "Lucky for him that he's a great fuck."

Zack's mirth fades away at her words, and he grumbles as Aerith raises her hand palm first. "A bet's a bet," she says with a saccharine smile.

"You knew I was gonna lose." Zack leans forward to whisper something in her ear that makes her giggle and bat at his chest.

"Get a room," Yuffie says with a grimace.

Tifa glances at Cloud as the others continue talking; she notes his empty bottle with a raised eyebrow.

"Wanna go get another one?" She prays he says yes so they can get away from the bickering.

Cloud's expression betrays his relief. "Please."

As the night advances, Tifa finds herself having more fun than she had expected she would; the few drinks she has make any residual tension from the week disappear. Cloud sticks to her side and Zack's, but after a while, it becomes obvious he's having a good time—a constant smile tilts up his lips, and laughter escapes him easily. She has a feeling his mood is proportional to the amount of drinks he has.

Tifa takes a break from dancing and leans against a wall at the edge of the room. As she sips her drink, she observes Cloud as he chats with Zack further away; the crowd obscures them from time to time, but her eyes find him still. Maybe it's because Cloud tends to dress casually that she feels the impulse to drink in his appearance right now. The thin knit turtleneck—which hugs his arms a little too well if she's to be honest—paired with the jeans rolled at hem over his boots is a great look on him, and she decides she'll bring it up at some point. The all-black attire is a harsh contrast to the lightness of his skin and hair, but it suits him, in a way.

A guy stops in front of her, filling in the surrounding space too much for her taste. She recognizes him from school, though she knows they've never interacted.

"Can I help you?"

The coldness of her voice only makes him smile. "Tifa, right?"

She keeps quiet; her eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Don't be so wary," he says with a chuckle. "We were in Micro-sociology together. You raised your hand a lot."

"Oh. Right." Tifa tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a little stupid for her initial reaction. "Sorry, I don't remember that."

"I always sat in the back."

She nods. "That explains it. What's your name?"

He smiles again, and she gets a hunch he takes her question as a victory; her mistrusts rears back its head. "I'm Rufus."

"Okay." She stares at him over the rim of her cup. "Can I help you, Rufus?"

"You never know."

It takes a lot out of her not to roll her eyes. Movement to her right has her look up, and the slight tautness of her body goes away as Cloud sidles up to her side. He wraps an arm around her neck, forcing her to lean into him a bit.

"Found you," he says, grinning.

"I've been here this whole time."

Tifa waits for him to remove his arm, but he doesn't, instead finishing his beer and staring at Rufus. His hold tightens minutely.

"I'm stealing her away," he tells Rufus with a sardonic smile.

"Yes, I can see that," Rufus replies, wryness dripping from his voice.

Before Tifa can say anything, Cloud grabs her hand and steers her away, closer to their friends and deeper into the crowd. Reno joined them again, now wearing the shades as he dances with Yuffie and Aerith. Zack is nowhere to be seen.

Cloud releases her hand and shows his empty bottle. "You want something?"

She doesn't bother reminding him she has a drink in her hand, having the sneaking suspicion that he's too far on his way to being drunk to care. "I'm good."

"I'll be back." He wanders off, almost bumping into someone.

She watches him until he disappears into the kitchen, but the sudden shift in the atmosphere grabs her attention; it's impossible to ignore the surging excitement. It's almost midnight, she realizes. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Zack reappearing and wrapping Aerith in a hug to lead her away from Reno. People all around start chanting the countdown, and Tifa abruptly feels awkward standing where she is—a little lonely and a little out of place. People scream as they get to zero and resounding shouts of Happy New Year fill the air.

As Tifa steps toward her friends, someone twists her around; she doesn't have time to react before Cloud again wraps his arm around her neck to bring her close, cups her face in his free hand, and kisses her. Tifa gasps out of both shock and pleasure at his sudden action, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Her grip on her drink slackens and it falls to the floor. Her hands grip his shoulders, sliding up to his neck, and she gives in to his warmth despite the public setting—it doesn't matter right now, she thinks. Cloud doesn't let her go even as he pulls back from the kiss.

"Happy New Year." The grin lighting his features is almost more of a surprise than the kiss itself.

"Happy New Year," she says softly.

Sensing a gaze on her, Tifa peeks over Cloud's shoulder, finding Aerith staring at them with wide eyes. As she realizes Tifa caught her, she gesticulates as if to say get your ass over here. With a slight wince, Tifa pushes against Cloud's chest so he will release his hold.

"I need to talk to someone." She doesn't wait for his answer before walking over to Aerith, who grabs her hand and leads them to a quiet corner of the house.

"This wasn't the first time you two kissed," Aerith says, not wasting any time. There is no accusation in her voice, only a heavy dose of surprise.

Tifa pinches her lips together and avoids her friend's gaze. "No."

"Why didn't you tell me?" A slight note of hurt shines through, but Aerith chases it away. "Why would you hide that—oh." She shakes her head. "You're not dating?"

"No," Tifa says again. "We're just sleeping together."

"Tifa, you told me you weren't looking for anything. This was—something."

"Aerith, I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but—"

"I don't care about that! Well, maybe a little." She waves her around to dismiss the statement. "I'm worried about you."

Tifa hates that her pulse beats faster and her mouth dries up. She knows her friend can be perceptive, but this isn't 'something' she wants to share yet—she doesn't want it discovered when she's only come to understand it herself so recently.

"Look, it's fine—"

"It's not." Aerith grabs her hand and squeezes. "Tifa, it's obvious you're in love with him. I saw the way you were looking at him."

Tifa's stomach twists; the noise surrounding them goes up in volume until it overloads her senses, building her irritation and anxiety. She snatches her hand out of Aerith's grip. Her friend always had the tendency to be a little insensitive at times—Tifa has seen it happen through the years, and while she's aware it's not meant in a malicious way, it doesn't make the sting go away. But beyond that, Aerith saying it's obvious is what hurts—if it's so clear, then she wonders if Cloud pretends not to see it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Aerith says immediately as she takes in Tifa's silent reaction. "I just don't want you to get hurt!"

"I know." Tifa shoves her hands in her jacket's pockets and glances to the side. "It's fine."

The unsaid for now hangs between them, but Aerith swallows back whatever else she wanted to say and nods.

"We're gonna go back, and nothing has changed, okay?" Tifa waits for Aerith to agree. "Tomorrow we can have a proper talk."

"I'll hold you to that," Aerith says, sighing.

Tifa pretends she didn't hear that and walks back into the crowd. When they rejoin their friends, she seeks Cloud, unsure how to be around him—but he saves her the trouble of overthinking when he acts like his usual, albeit drunken self. Tifa avoids Aerith's worried look and decides there's nothing to do but enjoy the rest of the night as best as she can.

And she does—the night goes on, and before she knows it, the house is emptying. Sprawled in a couch, she sweeps the room she's in with a glance; it's a complete mess, and she groans at the notion of cleaning up. One of Zack's roommates snores on the other couch and another passed out on the floor—she has no clue where the third one is, but she figures he won't be much more help. Zack comes back into the room, and though she can see the tiredness in his eyes, he still smiles.

"Get up, we have work to do."

"Ugh, do we have to do this now?"

"You think later we'll all be in better shape to clean this fucking mess?" Zack grabs her hands and pulls her to her feet, almost stepping on his roommate. "Come on. I promise we won't deep clean the house tonight."

"If I had known you are a clean freak, I wouldn't have agreed to stay over," she grumbles with no real heat.

Zack chuckles and leads her into the kitchen where they find Cloud sitting at the table, head in his hand. Standing close is Aerith with her hands on her hips.

"You think a headache is getting you out of this?" Her scolding tone makes Tifa snort. "We all have a headache right now. Get off your ass."

"I never agreed to this," Cloud says, his tone bordering on whiny.

"You're being such a child." Aerith grabs a garbage bag from the box Zack must have taken out. She shoves it at his chest. "You're not getting out of this."

Though it's clear he wants to protest, Cloud gets to his feet. "Fine."

They split up on Zack's instructions. Even if it pains him, he tells them to only pick up the worst of it; Tifa appreciates that he chooses the worse room for himself. She gets into the swing of cleaning up rather quickly—as appealing as slacking off sounds, she wants to be done as soon as possible.

Once she is, she throws out the bag she filled up; as she passes by the room Cloud was assigned to clean up, she stops dead in her tracks. Cloud lies on the couch, an arm and a leg dangling from the side, seemingly passed out. Tifa narrows her eyes out of suspicion but says nothing when she notices he cleaned most of the mess.

"Is he for real?"

Aerith's irritated voice behind her makes her jump; Tifa turns to see her friend glaring at Cloud, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Seems so."

"At least he helped some," Aerith says and then sighs. "Come on, I'll show you the room Zack prepared for you."

With one last glance at Cloud, Tifa follows Aerith up the stairs and into a small but cozy room with a double bed and a dresser. Tifa sits on the bed, the exhaustion of the night catching up to her. "It's nice."

Aerith shrugs. "One of his roommates has a sister who stays over often, so they made her a room from the office, I think."

"Thoughtful. Thank him for me, would you?" Tifa removes her jacket and tosses it on the floor, not caring where it lands. She unzips her boots and takes them off. "Good night, Aerith."

"Night. And Tifa?" Aerith hesitates in the doorway. "I'm sorry about how I said things earlier. I know it hurt you."

"Don't worry about it," Tifa says with a smile. "I know it came from a good place."

Aerith shuts the door behind her and her footsteps fade away. Tifa can hear her chat with Zack for a moment before another door closes. She leans back on her hands, tired but not sleepy—she's still a little too wired from the night. Still, it feels nice not to have music blasting and people shouting.

Faint noise coming from downstairs alerts her for a moment before she remembers the roommates and Cloud are still there. When the noise transforms into light footsteps that near her door, Tifa rolls her eyes. Of course it'd be Cloud. She crosses her legs and waits for him to open the door. To his credit, he knocks first, then pokes his head in to check once she doesn't answer.

"I knew you were faking," Tifa says, her tone dry. "Try to be less obvious next time."

Cloud shuts the door softly behind him. There's still a relaxed energy about him that he usually doesn't carry, and she guesses he must still be a little inebriated. "I didn't feel like cleaning up."

"Neither did I." She stands up, the tiredness she'd been feeling minutes before evaporating at the heated glint in his eyes. He hums as if he agrees, but she can tell he's distracted as his eyes wander down. They stand still for a moment, and Tifa can't help but tease him. "Did you need something or…?"

"Come here," he murmurs. "I've been patient enough."

She stays where she is. "I don't know about that."

"Tifa." The way he says her name is both a warning and a demand.

Though she'd like to tease him more, she can't ignore the anticipation building inside her. Tifa steps up to him; he doesn't waste time, tugging her to him and kissing her. She isn't surprised at the aggressiveness of his mouth on hers or of his hands over her. He undoes the zipper of her top and lowers the straps so it falls down; Tifa flings it off before helping him remove his sweater. Her skin pressing against his makes him groan against her lips.

"That feels good," he mumbles. His hands run down her back, pulling her as close as she can be. It makes undoing his belt and pants a little more difficult, but Tifa doesn't want to lose the contact. She rubs him through his briefs as she drops kisses along his neck; he sighs but then forces her to move back a little. "Take off your skirt."

The way he stares at her as the garment falls to the floor makes her want to be bold. Maybe some of it is the alcohol she drank throughout the night, but, really, Tifa thinks it might be a need that runs too deep—a craving for more of that dazed look full of desire. She doesn't allow him the time to take in the sight of her standing in those thigh highs and flimsy underwear; she gives him a gentle push so he stumbles against the wall and drops to her knees before him.

"Fuck." His voice is loud, amplified by the quiet of the house. His fingers brush against her cheek, then up to comb her hair away from her face. Tifa lets herself enjoy the tenderness of his touch for a second before leaning forward and taking him in her mouth; his hand tightens in her hair but then relaxes. "Tifa, that's—" His words trail off into a moan when she glances up to meet his eyes. "Fuck," he says again, softer this time.

The hint of wildness she catches in his gaze makes her heart skip a beat; she finds herself wanting to see more of it. When she takes him in deep, her tongue stroking along the underside, and his hips move in an involuntarily thrust, Tifa thinks his restraint might be weakening. She pulls back to catch her breath but also out of surprise at the harsh movement.

"Sorry. Fuck, sorry," he pants. His head falls back against the wall, and he looks down at her with half-lidded eyes.

"It's okay." Tifa licks along his length, eliciting breathy sighs from him. "I just didn't expect it." She keeps her voice low, conscious of Aerith's and Zack's presence in a nearby room. "Now I do."

"I don't—oh, fuck," he hisses as she swallows around him. His hands in her hair stiffen, but he keeps careful not to tug too hard at the strands.

She hums, causing him to thrust unintentionally into her mouth again, but this time she anticipates it. Still, she looks up at him in reassurance, aware he doesn't want to hurt her. Whatever he sees in her eyes shatters his worry, and Tifa takes pleasure in his sudden lack of restraint. He doesn't hold down his voice, curses and praise and moans getting away from him as she doesn't ease up. The ways in which he loses control at times strike her as satisfying, almost exhilarating—the slight tugs on her hair, the reflexive thrusts of his hips, the deepness of his voice. It's when she pulls back a little, letting him slip along her tongue and out of her mouth, and his groan ebbs into pants that Tifa realizes how loud he was being.

"You need to keep it down," she says.

Cloud opens his eyes, meeting hers, and she knows the pleased tilt of her lips doesn't go past him. His hands move to frame her face; he tilts her head back a little, a thumb gliding along her bottom lip. "You're enjoying this."

She's been past being shy about sex with Cloud for a while now, so she says, "Uh-uh."

"Fuck, look at you." He gives her an indolent smile. "How do you want me to keep quiet."

It's a statement, not a question, and she lets out a soft laugh. "You're gonna have to find a way."

"Oh, yeah?"

Tifa notices the challenge in his eyes too late—Cloud has already dragged up to her feet. He kisses her hard as he steps out of his pants and underwear and boots. He walks them back until her legs hit the bed, then lifts her up and drops her over the covers.

"Cloud—"

His smile is wicked, his tongue peeking out between his teeth—he's crawled over to her and spread her legs before she can react. Cloud slides his hands along the exposed skin of her inner thighs; he pulls the thin fabric of her underwear aside. "You really bought these to torture me."

Tifa bites her lip to keep in a moan as he drags the flat of his tongue against her. "It worked," she gasps.

"Fuck yeah, it did," he says into her skin, his voice rough.

His sharp nips and licks are almost teasing, not nearly enough, and she can tell he's aware of it. He runs his tongue over her clit and sucks; the sensation takes by surprise, but she muffles her whimper. Her grip on his hair tightens when he does it again and again, then licks her in lazy strokes. Cloud continues to build her up to the edge only to bring her down. When he raises his head and turns to place open-mouthed kisses over her thighs, Tifa can't take it anymore.

"Cloud, stop being a tease," she breathes out.

"I'm just keeping my mouth busy like you wanted."

She lifts her hips without meaning to when his breath blows across her sensitive skin. A ripping noise has her gasp. "Are you fucking serious?"

Tifa rests on her elbows to assess the damage. The fishnets tore where Cloud was gripping her leg, the fragile material probably giving way with the sudden jab of her hips. Though he tries to hold it in, she can feel his amusement radiating from him. "I just bought these!"

Cloud nods too seriously for the concern to be real. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not! They were expensive."

"Don't worry," he says, his laughter nuzzling her skin, "I'll make it up to you."

Tifa huffs. "You're so arrog—ah." The moan spills out of her when he slips two fingers inside her. "You better—fuck—buy me a new pair."

He sucks on her clit, flicking it with his tongue, and she falls back onto the bed with a cry. His fingers drive hard into her, curling to hit that spot he knows she likes. Tifa doesn't even realize how loud she's being until Cloud pulls away, and he smirks as he says, "You need to keep it down."

Tifa hides her face behind her hands as her frustration grows and wars with her desire. "I swear, I'll—"

Cloud tugs her hands away and shushes her with a kiss that doesn't alleviate her yearning. His mouth is wild on her, and she tastes herself on his tongue; his wet fingers trail over her breast. She's over caring about begging when he breaks away again.

"Cloud, please."

"Come over here," he murmurs as he lies on his back.

When she kneels next to him, he makes to lift her leg so she can straddle his face, but she hesitates as she realizes what he means. "Cloud, that's not—I haven't—"

"Hey," he cuts her off, smirking. "You know how to use your mouth, and I know how to use mine. We'll be fine. Now, come on."

"You're terrible sometimes." She shakes her head at him but complies after a brief pause.

"That's it." Cloud brushes his hands over her back, applying slight pressure so she bends forward. "There you go."

Tifa drinks in the gentleness of his voice; it helps to ease the flare of nervousness that took over. He pulls her hips lower, and his mouth finds her again; it makes it harder for her focus as she slips him past her lips again. She resorts to kissing and sucking along his length once her muscles tense up, and it becomes impossible to carry on as Cloud decides he's done teasing—her climax that had been building for a while crashes into her. Tifa hides her face against his thigh, muffling the loud noises of her release into his skin. Cloud drags it out until she whimpers from being too sensitive. He eases her off of him, and she rolls unto her back; Tifa gazes at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry," she pants, "I didn't really—"

Cloud gives her that soft smile she thinks only she gets to see. "You did great."

He grips her arms, forcing her to sit up, and kisses her, lightly biting her bottom lip. It doesn't take long for his kisses to turn harsh, unrestrained, and Tifa answers in kind. An urgency that wasn't there before materializes between them—Cloud settles over her, his lips drifting down to her chest. Tifa cries out when he enters her, and suddenly she finds herself not caring about waking up anyone—all she cares about is what happens in this room, between Cloud and her.

"Fuck, Tifa." He stares down at her from where he kneels between her legs, taking in her heaving chest and the tight grip she has on the covers above her head. Cloud grabs her hands and holds them above her head.

It feels strange for a second only, like she finds herself at his mercy with nowhere to go, but she realizes that, right now, she doesn't want to be anywhere else. She gives him a slight smile so he can know she doesn't mind. As he begins to thrusts into her, Tifa moans loudly; his following laugh is strained.

"Gotta keep quiet, remember?"

"I don't care," she says, almost pleading. She keeps her eyes on him. "I don't care."

Cloud curses and leans forward. She thinks he's about to kiss her when he covers her mouth with his hand; there's barely any pressure, just enough to mute the noises he coaxes out of her, and she finds relief at the thought. He releases the hold he had on her hands and hides his face into her neck—his mouth presses against her skin, and she can sense the groans that get away from him. Tifa wraps her arms around him, her nails digging into his back as his thrusts grow harsh and frenzied. When she comes, she allows a shout to escape, knowing it won't bother anyone. Her legs grow tight around his hips, drawing him closer and deeper into her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Cloud whispers in her neck as he comes. He sags against her, his hand slipping away from her mouth. "Tifa—" Her name is drowned by his heavy panting.

"Hm?" Her hold on him tightens even if he doesn't make to move away.

He rolls on his side, arms coming up around her. "I'll buy you all the thigh highs you want."

Tifa can't help laughing. "I'm sure you will."

Cloud stays silent a moment, and she almost thinks he's asleep when he adds, "Is this okay? Holding you, I mean."

"Why?" Her question leaves her unbidden, and though she doesn't take it back, she's glad her face is hidden in his chest.

Maybe it's the alcohol left over in his blood, but he simply says, "I want to."

Her heart both twists and soars. What she wants to answer is It's perfect, but instead she whispers, "It's okay."

And maybe for tonight it can be she thinks as she closes her eyes.

—

A/N: Me as I scroll through endless websites to find types of thigh highs: it's for science.