Chapter Text
“Last call!”
It had been a long night, and Tifa made the announcement with no small amount of relief. More drinks had been split than usual, several fights had broken out and Tifa had discovered one amorous couple getting frisky in the bar’s disabled toilet. A visiting Blitzball team was celebrating their recent tournament in the booths and their drunk, off-key singing was grating on her nerves. It didn’t help that their captain, a tall, lithe woman with close-cropped pink hair would not stop asking for her number. This was not unusual for a night at Seventh Heaven, and Tifa had been a bartender long enough to ordinarily take drunk idiots in her stride. But tonight, with the second trimester exhaustion setting in, Cloud away on a long delivery, the kids staying with Barret, she felt terribly alone and more than a little irritable.
The Blitzball captain was leaning over the bar, again. “I’ll be the last call you ever need, Tifa.”
Tifa was loading a tray of glasses and fought the urge to smash them on the floor. Her tiredness was bringing on a headache and the balls of her feet ached.
“For the tenth time, Nix, I’m married, pregnant and not interested.”
Nix laughed and propped her chin on her fist, swaying slightly. “No, s’okay, I like a challenge. You know, whatever your baby daddy is doing, it ain’t working. Can tell by the way he ain’t here.” Tifa bristled, but Nix did not notice as she leaned closer, voice taking on a sultry, coaxing tone. “Tifa, lemme stay after closing, I can show you what it’s really like to love a woman. I see those curves, baby, I see them sitting on my face-”
That was enough. Tifa whirled to the counter and pounded it, the sound loud enough to draw all attention as bar bottles rattled and glasses jumped up and down the bar. In the sudden silence, Tifa glared at the room.
“Bar’s closed! All out!”
Several patrons grumbled, but they slowly complied. Only after the last one had stumbled out and Tifa had locked the door, sliding the deadbolt home with a heavy clunk did she breathe a sigh of relief. Leaning with her back against the solid wood, Tifa cradled the hand she had used to hit the counter, hissing as she flexed it painfully. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve her swollen ankles. Her headache still throbbed and she cussed, hating how tired she was. How alone she felt. She hated how the pregnancy made her body feel like a raging, puffed-up balloon all the time. Wasn’t it supposed to get better at some point? She glanced up at the sprawling mess of glasses, paper napkins and spill stains. With a groan she remembered she also had to clean the downstairs toilet. For a moment, she wished she could just throw it all away. Walk through the door and never come back.
Her moment of weakness was interrupted by a knock at the door. Briefly Tifa thought about ignoring it, but it sounded again. It was quiet and gentle, as if not wanting to really disturb her. Not like the banging of a drunk demanding one last drink. Curious, Tifa turned and drew back the deadbolt, just as a key turned in the lock from the other side. To her surprise Cloud opened the door.
“Hi.” She said, trying processing this unexpected appearance. Cloud wasn’t due home until tomorrow afternoon. How was he suddenly here?
“Hi.” Cloud said, smiling. His Mako eyes glowed dimly in the dark night, highlighting his handsome face. “Can I come in?”
Tifa realised she was blocking the door and stepped back. Cloud followed, dropping his travel bag with a sigh. He shed his outer jacket as Tifa closed the door, then swept her up in a hug.
“Hi!” Tifa said again, still shocked. “What are you doing here?” the words were muffled by his sweater, which was warm and smelt like petrol and sweat. She breathed it in, immediately feeling her headache start to fade.
Cloud chuckled, burying his nose in her hair. “I live here, last time I checked.”
Tifa groaned, but she couldn’t stop the grin. “Smartass. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be still out on delivery?”
Cloud shrugged, Tifa feeling the movement rather than seeing it. “Got done early. Wanted to come home.”
Tifa hummed her delight, pressing closer. Cloud hugged her tighter, and Tifa could feel some tension drain from him too. For a moment, they gently rocked back and forth, before Tifa felt Cloud look up and around the bar.
“Long night?” he asked. Tifa didn’t answer, knowing the mess of the bar spoke for itself. “Here.” Cloud slowly walked her backwards, until the back of her knees hit a booth and she sank down on the cushioned bench. It felt so good to be off her feet, but she couldn’t rest yet. She made to stand and Cloud gently pressed her shoulders, making her stay.
“Sit down. I’ll finish sweeping and load the dishwasher.” Cloud stepped away, already gathering glasses.
Tifa blinked, then said “What?”
“Sit down.” Cloud repeated, calling over his shoulder as he picked up the broom. “I’ll finish up here. Then I can give you a foot rub.”
“No, I heard you. It just…” Tifa swallowed as she felt a flush of heat from his words. Suddenly, she was no longer so tired. The warmth spread from her throat, across her chest and pooled pleasantly between her legs. She licked her lips.
“Did you say foot rub?” it came out high and hopeful, while her aching ankles practically throbbed in anticipation. Cloud smirked but said nothing as he quickly and efficiently swept the bar. He even shifted the tables to get under the legs. Tifa rested one elbow on the table and proceeded to melt internally as he worked, collecting bottles and swiping away stains.
“I called Barret on the way home.” Cloud said mildly, glancing her way as he stacked trays of glasses. Tifa stared at his long fingers carefully, mindfully placing each one so that it would not smash in the dishwasher. At each gentle clink, her thighs clenched.
“Mm-hm?” she managed, biting her lip. Cloud paused, then continued stacking. Tifa sighed.
“He’s keeping the kids another day.” Cloud’s voice was low, quiet. Tifa stifled a moan at the thought of the blissful lie in she would have tomorrow. It was Monday, so there was no bar, no kids, no appointments… Cloud waited until she focused on him again. “And I’ve cancelled all my deliveries, to spend the day with you.”
Tifa couldn’t hold back the moan this time. Cloud quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “Sound good?”
Tifa sighed. “Keep going.” Her own voice was breathless, soft. Cloud licked his lips and stared at her.
“It’s just going to be me and you. I’ll make you breakfast in bed. We can spend the whole day on the couch, watching TV, eating takeout. Whatever you want.”
It sounded like heaven, and Tifa was flush with desire and anticipation. “Come here.” She whispered, grinning, and Cloud was immediately kneeling before her, kissing her palms, her wrists, her slight bump. The heat that had pooled between her legs fired up, chasing any lingering tiredness away. She pulled him up to meet her lips.
“You know exactly how to dirty talk me, Cloud Strife.”
Cloud tried for a look of innocence, but it quickly broke into a knowing grin as he reached down, slipping off one of Tifa’s boots to press his thumb against the aching heel. Instantly, Tifa was moaning, falling back against the bench as waves of relief washed through her leg and tingled tantalisingly at the apex of her thighs.
“Maybe.” Cloud conceded. “But is it working?”
Tifa was quickly reduced to incoherency as he continued to press firmly first one foot, then the other. By the time he was finished Tifa felt rejuvenated, her various aches and pains fading and leaving instead a pulsing heat of desire.
“Come on.” Cloud said, standing and holding out his hand. “I’ll run you a bath before bed.”
Tifa stared at the outstretched hand, then up at her wonderful, caring, hot husband. The one who worked all hours of the day for their family, who had driven miles to come home and surprise her just when she was feeling her lowest. He had cleaned her bar, organised a day off for the both of them, rubbed her feet and was now offering a bath, all when she knew he was most likely exhausted himself. She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up, surprising him with a kiss. Then she tugged his hand towards the stairs, down the hall, ignoring his questions when she marched him straight past the bathroom. The questions stopped, however, when she pulled him into the bedroom and down onto the bed. Afterall, dirty talk was fine, but Tifa knew words weren’t the only way to tell someone how you feel.