destinyfell | » Action Two | Cloud and Tifa «

Entry tags:

» Action Two | Cloud and Tifa «

[Morning.

Bright streaks of yellow poured inwards through cracks in tightly closed curtains, dancing over pale, bare skin and stark, blond strands. Night's chill had vanished, traveling along with the looming darkness and silence, leaving behind a warmth and bustle of sound. Birds chirped rapidly, perched precariously atop the building. An engine roared to life, children laughed as they were awoken, meeting the fresh new day with joy and vigor.

Morning.

A new day. A new start. A new chance. A new opportunity.

Everything that would normally send him startling away fell away, lost in the peaceful haze of sleep. It was strange. Feeling this warm, this at peace, this content was strange. Not startling awake suddenly, not awaking long before anyone else could so he could slip away unnoticed without the burden of questions that had no answers.

And so he gave in. Gave in and relished in the gentle lull of rest, in the sounds of soft breathing, in the comfort of her pressed in snug against him, allowing the rest of the world to fall away.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's almost painful, like removing a bandages that's been left on for far too long and ripped away suddenly, to watch her leave his side, to know how many minutes and hours it will be until she's back in her rightful place. But there was an entire world outside of these four walls, one that required and deserved their attention. Responsibilities that they had knowingly signed up for.

Beginning to push himself upright, thick blankets pooling low around his waist, hair falling haphazardly around his face and into his eyes, he watched each movement, each graceful pull and tug of muscle. It was difficult not to picture how each of them had moved so perfectly below him, above him, around him. Watching her was like some sort of treat, one that he had rarely allowed himself to indulge in, out of fear of being caught and desperation to hold those desires at bay, if even for another moment. Now, with everything revealed and everything promised, he could drink his fill, and those bright, shimmering eyes never left her.]

I think I can control myself. [It would be difficult, not to simply pull over to the side of the road each time his phone vibrated, each time a new message came through. But each moment he spent doing so would be a moment wasted, one that could be better spent with her. Each delivery was going to take time, and darkness would likely have long since fallen by the time he returned, leaving their precious time already limited.

Waiting patiently until she gathered everything needed, he only made to move once she had gone, quickly locating the discarded clothing from the night before. Each footstep was silent, careful and calculated as he left her room and entered his own. With luck, no one had noticed Fenrir still parked in it's usual spot out back, nor would they become suspicious when the tell tale sound of her engine roared to life.

Minutes later he was dressed, hair perfectly straightened out, googles hanging carefully around his neck, packages tucked under his arm, phone securely located in his back pocket. Sneaking out the back door was relatively easy, as was opening each compartment to stow away his current cargo. Double checking to ensure each piece of his sword was properly interested and at the ready, in case he happened to stumbled upon a particularly nasty group of monster.

And then he was gone, engine revving wildly as he pulled onto the road.]

[All day long she resists checking her phone. Or, mostly resists it. Not that she expects to hear from him while he's on the job. He can't text and drive. But - its very hard for her not to text him.

She doesn't. Because she's working and he's working and they're adults.

And also because she keeps unnerving out of the risque or teasing texts she thinks of before her fingers can actually type them. One day, soon she hopes, she'll be more comfortable with firing off things like that but - its still new and when he's gone its easier to feel unsure and second guess what they're doing. What she's doing. She doesn't regret it, she doesn't want to take a second of it back. It's just... its new and she's wanted it for so long and - and she's afraid of losing it before it even starts.

If the kids suspect anything they don't let on, more than happy to chirp away before she sends them off to school and then when they get back and she settles them in with some snacks an their homework but Barret throws her pointed looks before he goes off on his own errands and every time she catches a glimpse of her reflection in something she sees the marks Cloud left on her throat that her hair only partially hides. There's no way Barret missed those, or what they meant and it didn't take any kind of genius at all to guess who she would have let leave them on her. Cloud's absence is just incrimination, not the opposite.

She catches herself touching them lightly with her fingertips throughout the day. Little reminders that it was all real.

As if the slight aches in a body that wasn't used to certain things yet weren't hint enough.

When night starts to fall she makes sure she and the kids have dinner and she opens the bar and she smiles and pours drinks and serves food and listens to people talk to her and - and a little bubble of excitement keeps slowly building inside her stomach. The longer the night goes on the more it shivers and bubbles like fizz in a soda, starting to work into her blood stream. The bar takes care of itself when she goes up and tucks the kids in for the night and if a couple of the regulars notice the bruises on her, they don't say anything when she calls closing a little bit early except smile and pay their tab and slip out the door. There's a bounce in her step she can't even pretend isn't there and the job of cleaning up and closing down for the night feels more effervescent than the usually mellow contentment she's used to. There's a plate of food warming for Cloud when he gets back and she polishes and wipes and sweeps and its just like every other night.

Except its not at all and the way she finds herself smiling gives her away.]

[With each and every delivery that came and went, the desire to pull his phone from it's place within his pocket and do as he promised rose impossibly higher. As did the list of possible subject matters, all of them teasing and enticing. But each time his fingers stopped short, hovering over the keys in hesitation.

And so nothing was ever sent, leaving them in relative radio silence as the light began to wane and time began to run short.

It was only once he neared the ruins of Midgar that his courage finally returned, Fenrir left to idle as he pulled the device out the device, memories of the previous night still fresh and vivid within his mind.]

Want some help again tonight?

[It was sent within the next heart beat, before his mind could truly contemplate the outcome, before he could begin to second guess each and every word, each and everything that had taken place. Before he could realize just how different this night was from every other that had come before it, save two.]

[When her phone chimed at her, she startled. Which was silly because she'd been expecting - hoping - that it would. The little frisson still shivered through her though at the sound and her body jerked straight a little, fingers curling just a bit tighter around the cloth in her hand.

She was being so - she was really too old to be acting like a school girl with her first crush.

Except he was her first crush. And her only one.

Though... he certainly didn't make her feel as young as a school girl when he touched her...

Blowing out a silent breath, she dug her phone out of her apron pocket and thumbed it on. Read his message. Felt the little weightless flip her stomach took and the heat that moved over her cheeks.

And the silly little smile that started at the edges of her lips and spread across her whole face. And then her lips pressed together as she tried to think of a good answer.]

I think I've needed help for most of the day.

[Cloud wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting, what response he was hoping to get in return. Temptation to simply slip his phone back into his pocket and forget about it for the remainder of the trip spiked. To forget about everything entirely and act for all the world like nothing had changed, like nothing was different. Like he hadn't just sent an extremely suggestive text to his best friend.

But then his phone chimed, vibrated within his hand and her message displayed upon the screen and he could feel the way the muscles in his stomach tightened and there was no way to ignore it. Only she would ever be able to fulfill that longing.]

Think they'd hear us in the shower?

[Because those images from his dream the night before were still vividly dancing within his mind, glimpses of her soaking wet, of her calling his name. She may not have been brave enough to give him the preview, but maybe she wouldn't mind if they both played a part in this fantasy.]

[His response has the breath sucking in sharply thanks to the jump in her stomach.

He's not the only one that remembers his dream last night is what started this entire new turn of events rolling.

It has the heat melting down through her and she sits down on the nearest stool, thighs pressing together. It's suddenly much easier to imagine the feel of his hands on her while the water runs down over her body than it would have been just yesterday and she lets herself shiver and tuck in a little tight to herself, anticipation and jitters of nerves skittering through her. Its a new feeling. Not the longing. She's lived with the longing for years. But the anticipation. The anticipation is new. The excitement. She presses her lips together and answers and if there was a way to magically transport him there in the second, she would have.

She doesn't know whether the delay is going to make it better or worse.]

Only one way to find out.

[Never before had something as simple as a text affected him so much.

But there's sparks of electric light dancing across his skin, along his spine, fueling the fires that blaze deep within the pit of his stomach. There's his heart, pounding against his ribs, anticipation rising with each knocking thud.

Only yesterday he never would have dared to say anything like that to her, never would have dared to bring his fantasies to light. And now, he was eagerly awaiting the fulfillment of another.]

Twenty minutes. Think you can wait that long?

[It's a good thing she's alone because she makes a little noise in her throat when he answers and its a little girlish and a little longing and her smile spills over into something silly even as she feels the warmth curling in her stomach. She wants his hands on her. His hands and his mouth and his body against hers and its so vivid now when she aches for it, her mind more than willing to give her images to go with the sensations now that its been given something new to remember and call up at will. There's a little shiver through her as she types back her answer.]

Hurry. Or I may have to start without you.

[She was such an incredible test of his self control.]

I won't stop you.

[That had been part of his fantasy, after all. Watching her touch herself in the shower, hearing her call his name as her fingers moved across her body. She may not have been brave enough before, but perhaps his attention had granted her a little more.]

As long as I get to watch when I get there.

[Phone snapping shut, Fenrir's engine roared to life, thick spinning rapidly as he pulled away from the abandoned building he had stopped in front of, intent on reaching her before his allotted time had passed.]

[It would have thrilled her beyond words if she'd known she was that much of a strain on his self-control.

His answer had the full body shiver moving through her and, alone, she didn't even try to stop it. She didn't answer his text either. Not if it might slow him down even a second or two extra. She'd much rather have him there with her instead.

Pressing her thighs together, she glanced at the clock above the counter. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes or less. She should finish setting up for tomorrow.

Except the mental image of him stepping into the shower full dressed because he'd caught her in there was a hot thick roll inside of her. The wet fabric of his shirt would feel so strange, so erotic against her bare chest and his gloved hands would slip in between her thighs and -

the exhale shook as she opened and eyes and laughed, weakly, at herself. She had never considered herself very sexual no matter what her body looked like. Years with Cloud and nothing physical happening had just honed that impression of herself. Finding herself with such thick, heavy fantasies springing up - she probably shouldn't be as happy about it as she was. But she was.

She'd use up all the hot water if she started before him.

He still hadn't eaten dinner yet either and maybe she should make sure he did that first when he got home.

Fifteen minutes later, she was standing in the doorway, watching the road, arms around herself as she leaned on the doorframe. Maybe she should be setting the stage, getting the bathroom ready but - oh but she needed his mouth, hard and heavy over hers and she couldn't concentrate enough on anything but the need for the reality of him. It was silly that she was so impatient for him - and she couldn't even care if it was. She'd haul him up to the shower as soon as he got here.

She just needed him to get here.]

[Traveling these roads day in and day out, always taking the same path in and out of Edge had given him a knee knowledge of exactly how long the journey should take. Twenty minutes. Fifteen if there was no one else on the road.

Twenty minutes had never passed by so slowly, nor had there ever seemed to be quite so many things hindering his progress. Despite how hard he pushed Fenrir, how fast the illuminated dials said he was going, it didn't quite feel hard or fast enough. Roads that were normally clear were busy, trucks rattling down cobbled streets, taking up so much room he was forced to pull off to the side. People coming from late nights at establishments that had long since closed their doors. Each minute that passed by seemed to drag on forever, into hours, days, until he was no long certain just how much time had passed.

Until finally, blessedly, blissfully, Fenrir was pulling into her spot behind Seventh Heaven, engine dying with a soft purr as he slipped off, each piece of his sword safely store inside a locked compartment.

Not that anyone would actually mess with it. Everyone knew exactly who that particular bike belonged to.

Part of him hoped, desperately, that she would be waiting in the shower for him. Hot water cascading down over glistening skin, hugging and accentuating curves. Slicking lips and flesh and masking the sound of her voice as she called out for him. As his fingers replaced hers and his mouth found her neck and left fresh bruises in it's wake.

But she was there, framed by soft, glowing light, like an earth bound angel sent to him by some higher power to lead him away from the darkness that had haunted so much of his life. Every thought except for her fell away, except for the blazing desire to sink into her heat, into her heart, and never let go.

They had never needed words, had never needed to speak, and enough time had been wasted upon them already. Lips were much better put to use finding hers, attaching to them without warning, deep and intense and longing. Hands slipped downwards, over defined strength and dangerous curves, cupping her upper thighs and squeezing before lifting.

Hopefully no one would chose this moment to come downstairs, because chances were they weren't going to make it up them anytime soon.]

[The familiar growl of Fenrir had the butterflies starting up in her stomach and the shiver moving down through her. Maybe she should sprint for the shower - except he was so close and her toes curled in her shoes and it was hard enough not to rush down the steps to him. But she didn't. They were only just starting this. Surely that kind of rush to see him would seem excessive or - or too much? Her fingers curled on her arms where they were looped and she pressed her lips together.

And then he was there and her mouth went dry. The look in his electric blue eyes was - it was incredible. Her stomach took a sharp, hot dive. She'd never thought she'd ever want a man to look at her that predatory but -

then he was up the stairs, so fast, and his mouth was crashing down over hers and she was already reaching for him. The sound that tore out of her throat was a sob, all relief and need and welcome and her body melted into the hard, hot heat of his, arms wrapping tight, fingers clenching hard on the fabric of his shirt against his back, up to curl like desperation in his golden hair. Her mouth parted for his, needing, asking, begging, offering and the shudder that came out of her when his hands caressed, squeezed was right from her bones.

How could she have been so long without him? Why did a mere day feel like forever? Surely this couldn't be the way it usually was. They'd lived together for years. But her legs shifted, wrapped around him when he lifted her and deep in her soul she pulsed. So - happy. Happy he touched her as if he had every right to. So happy he needed her the way she needed him. So happy she wasn't the only one desperate and clawing and trying to get closer. Later on, she might remember to worry that they were still out in public, that even on a quiet empty seeming street the neighbors were nosy, that they were being far too blatantly physical and obvious but...

The sound she made into his mouth was relieved and her fingers in his hair curled and tugged.]

[It was impossible to contain the sound that clawed it's was upwards, something deep and feral, releasing on parted lips, tongue sneaking out in the next instant, sinking into the dark, welcome cavern of her mouth. Tangling with her own, flattening teasingly against the wet appendage, forward and back, a promising imitation of a much more intimate act.

It was impossible to remember those who slept just a single floor above them, separated only by thin layers of wood and blissfully closed doors. Difficult to remember they were supposed to be keeping this all a secret, something that was known only to them.

Impossible to fight against the desire to press her against the bar, to sink into her, to take her, to make her his.

They were definitely not making it up stairs.

Shifting, full combined weight resting upon one leg, he lifted the other, nudging sharply against the wooden door, sighing in relief when it swept closed. Honestly, he no longer cared who saw, who heard, who knew. Any shame that may have once reared it's ugly head had vanished, replaced entirely with desperate, pulsating, undeniable need.

Fingers tightened against her thighs, squeezing, one slipping upwards over the long, flat plane of her back, finding thick, dark locks and tangling, tugging, intent on angling her head back, on presenting more warmed honey touched skin for his attention. Lips fell away from her own, tracing along the strong line of her jaw, seeking out a pulse point, teeth sinking into the tender flesh.]

[He had her body shivering already, too much emotion, too much physical sensation all at once and yet nothing inside of her tried to back away from that overwhelming rush or the way it pulled her taut and desperate in an instant. This was Cloud. Cloud that she'd longed for for so long, that she'd loved for so long and there were no defenses against him.

No desire to stem what was years worth of waiting and wanting and need crashing down over her now.

She was hardly even aware when they moved, body trying to fit more perfectly to his, lost in the feel of being in his arms, pressed tight against him again. And the stroke and plunge of his tongue definitely had the shiver moving through her stronger, body feeling as if he was already stroking lower and her nails tightened on him, against his shoulder, in his hair.

She surrendered her throat completely to him when he tugged, ancient feral reaction, move pressing her chest closer against his, feeling the strangely erotic harshness of buckles through the leather. And it was a cry, soft though it was, when he teeth sank in, longing and need and relief.

She'd waited all day for this and it felt like years. Waiting to be claimed, waiting to be taken, waiting to surrender and give and lose herself in taking. Her legs hitched a bit more against him and against his back, her fingers pulled and tugged, bunching the fabric of his shirt up, wanting skin and heat and friction and mind too shattered with relief and need to focus enough to be methodical about it. His name was a desperate, needy, relieved sound when it slipped out.]

[Someone was going to hear them.

Someone was going to hear her cries and come rushing down the stairs, be it Barret with his loud stomps and boisterous manner and booming voice and the stern lecture that would follow about how there were children living and sleeping directly above them and how if he ever caught wind that either of them had stumbled upon them and discovered things they shouldn't he would make them both incredibly sorry. Or one of the children, concerned or even frightening by sounds they didn't understand, barely brave enough to come investigate if only for their own peace of mind.

Someone was going to hear them and he'd be forced to part from her, to staunchly deny it having been what it appeared, to apologize for something he felt no shame over. Would climb the stairs and enter his room and spend the rest of the night alone, body aching with desperate need that fantasies and his own hand could never quite satisfy. Because he had tasted the forbidden fruit, had swam within her waters, knew of her heat, of the pleasure her body was capable of giving. Nothing would ever come close to matching it. ]

Tifa - [Her name fell from his lips like a song, like worship of those two perfectly paired syllables. Separating was like an electric shock searing along the length of his spine, raging flames fanning in answer, heat curling within his body and within his heart.

Denying them even for another moment seemed almost cruel, an entire lifetime having passed since the moment they parted. Hands slipped from their positions, careful in his attempt to set her back upon the ground, no more willing to jeopardize her safety and well being then the knowledge of their new found relationship.

Voice low, fire blue eyes darkened and glazed into sapphires twinkling under the moon light, sharp teeth nipping into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip, slowly releasing it, a teasing promise to accompany his words.] I meant it when I said I wanted you in the shower.

[Her whole body shuddered when he said her name in his voice of gravel and dark velvet sin. She'd been in love with his voice for so long and the sound of it was almost a physical stroke. The next thing she did though was hiss, teeth baring, lips pulling back, eyes squeezing closed. Because he wasn't pressing closer and the last thing she wanted was to be parted from him. It was almost physical pain and that was ridiculous. They'd been physically close plenty of time before. She shouldn't be so desperate for him now. Just because something had changed.

Because everything had changed.

One leg obeyed, slipped enough to dangle a sneaker against the floor but the other was reluctant and her eyes felt just as reluctant about opening. He wasn't going to tell her no. Not when he said her name that way, after he'd bolted the stairs and swept her up and kissed her the way he had. She knew he wasn't going to tell her no.

But he was stopping them and the bolt of irrational fear through her chest, that she'd been given too much, that she'd been too happy, that good things ended - it was cold enough and sharp enough to have her opening her eyes. The hand in his hair slipped down to curl in the fabric at the front of his shirt.

And oh. Oh... that look in his eyes. Her stomach tripped over itself, palms tingling, heat flushing through her. Oh, it was a good thing she knew that he only looked at her with eyes like that. He could bring the world to its knees with eyes like that.

She swallowed, dry, against his words. And the embarrassment flushed through her but the little smile struggled up too, fluttering at the edges of her lips. He had asked her to be in the shower.]

I got impatient.

[Her eyes apologized - and yet laughed and didn't apologize at all at the same time. And her other leg slipped down. Her nails trailed against his scalp though, caught and tugged strands of gold hair against the back of his head.

Even with the promise of a reward, it was still very hard to let go.]

How long are you going to take once I get up there?

[What exactly had he been expecting? For her to willingly part with him, to give in to his every whim while having none of her own. Those nails scratched an impossible itch, making him arch into her touch, making his breath catch within his throat at the tug of those fingers. Made his body heat impossibly further, instantly regretting relinquishing his hold upon her. It would have been so easy to simply have carried her over to the freshly polished bar, to deposit her upon it and sink into the warmth so willingly and beautifully provided.

But patience was a virtue that would be rewarded, far better than giving into primal, feral urges.]

Five minutes. [Just long enough for the water to heat and for the sound to mask that of opening and closing doors. Just long enough for anyone who may have been disturbed from the sound to settle and not be further prodded into coming to investigate.] Five minutes and I'll come to you.

[The truth was that she didn't mind giving in to his whims at all. Firstly because they were so enjoyable for her too and secondly because the way he reacted when she did was incredibly erotic and satisfying at the same time. He had said he wanted to come in on her in the shower and she didn't mind giving him that fantasy physically at all.

She liked that he thought of her that way, in fact...

Besides... if she gave him his fantasies maybe he'd return the favor. She did have one involving Fenrir that - ]

Hmm. [It was a little weak but she nodded to show she agreed. She was still a little weak legged from the image of him charging up the stairs to get to her, as eager as she was and it brought the smile back. Made her heart beat light and high in her chest. He wanted this. They were really doing this. He really did want her that way after all.] Five minutes.

[And she didn't even try to make it sound like anything but what it was, need and impatience. And then she darted up on her toes to nip his tempting lower lip and whisper:]

I might even be brave enough let you watch.

[against his ear before turning and silently sprinting up the stairs to the second floor, hair swinging behind her.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

» Action Two | Cloud and Tifa «

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject