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”Where are we going?” Tifa’s arms wrap tighter around Cloud’s middle, Fenrir’s engine roaring beneath them.
”You’ll see.”
The landscape is familiar, but also different. The landmarks are the same, but it’s got more color. Green shrubbery and vast field lining the road where only dust gathered a few years ago. A lot changed after the world was saved, and Tifa settles on closing her eyes, leaning her head against Cloud’s back, letting the familiar drone on the engine almost make her doze off.
It’s unmistakable, as they get closer. The sights, the sounds, the smells.
A paradise of colored lights and glitter, a stark contrast to the surroundings, even as they’re changing. They’ve been there a handful of times, years ago, rushed visits between saving the world, and as they make it up to the gates, it almost feels like it’s the first time.
”I want to do it right this time,” Cloud tells her, slipping his hand into hers. ”Take you on a proper date.”
”So you took me all the way to the Gold Saucer?” He looks away, the tips of his ears turning pink. Still, after all these years. Tifa feels giddy, a bubbly, sparkling feeling in her belly. ”Who are you?”
”A hopeless romantic?” he suggests, still not looking at her. But Tifa sees the way the corners of his mouth drag upwards. Feels him lacing their fingers together as they walk through the gates. She squeezes his hand as she starts pointing out things that’s changed since they were here last, and he falls in pace with her, following without being led.
The haunted hotel is just as tacky as she remembers it, but there’s a certain nostalgia in the air as they step into their shared room. Last time, they each had their own room, and Tifa had laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm the butterflies in her belly, wondering if Cloud was thinking about her too, on the other side of the wall.
This time, he shuffles about on the right side of the wall, jumping on one leg as he tries to pull on the nicest pair of pants he owns. They’re tighter than they used to be, a testament both to how healthy he’s become and to the fact that they get dressed up way too seldom.
Luckily, Cloud had the presence of mind to tell her ahead of time to pack something nice to wear, and Tifa brings out a short, sparkly dress from her bag. Cloud’s eyes grow wide.
”What?” she asks over her shoulder as she steps into the dress, pulling it up and resting the straps over her shoulders. ”You told me to bring something nice.”
Cloud coughs into his hand, looking away, but as she asks him to help her with the zipper, he’s behind her in an instant, warm hands brushing against her skin as he zips her into the dress. He looks over her shoulder, scanning her body in the mirror in front of them. Hands skim her hips, up over the scratchy, sequined fabric, to rest at her waist. His eyes flit across her form, and it makes Tifa feel warm.
”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into her skin as he presses kisses to her bare shoulder.
”You’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him as she turns around in his arms, resting her hands on his chest, feeling the soft texture of his shirt under her palms. He kisses her cheek, trailing down to her jaw and her neck, and hells, if he keeps this up, they’re not going to spend their entire stay inside this hotel room.
Somehow, they manage to keep it together, and they make it out into the over-the-top glitz. The flashing lights catch in the sequins of Tifa’s dress, and she feels Cloud’s eyes on her every step of the way, making her giddy and full of excitement.
Not much has changed in the Gold Saucer throughout the years, not even after its grand reopening after Meteor. The games are still loud and bright. Cloud still breaks the leaderboards as naturally as breathing. He still looks at Tifa for approval afterwards, smiling that shy, proud smile when she cheers and claps her hands for him.
LOVELESS still plays in virtual reality nightly, but it doesn’t feel the same, so Tifa takes Cloud’s hand again and leads him down the portrait hall instead, talking about Jessie and Biggs and Wedge.
Of Aerith and Zack.
She smiles more than she cries about them these days, the gaps they left behind filled with hopeful dreams and cherished memories, chasing the pain away from lingering.
The skywheel still stands tall, peaking among fireworks, open to couples this particular night, just like that that time years ago.
Cloud’s arm wraps an arm around her shoulders as they get in line, and as she feels the strap of her dress slipping, his gentle fingers are there to pull it back up, put it back into place. Shivers dance over her skin where his fingers touch her.
”Are you cold?” he asks, voice soft and low in her ear, his hand smoothing over the goosebumps he created. Tifa just shakes her head, and as they step onto the gondola, he slips his hand to her waist to steady her.
He sits down next to her, close as the air. Outside, the view is pretty, but Tifa takes a moment to look at Cloud instead, his face illuminated by the fireworks.
In many ways, he’s so similar to that night all those years ago. His hair isn’t much different, still blonde and messy and out of control, if a bit longer. His eyes, still blue and piercing, a green ring of mako around his pupil, pulsing, like there’s a low electric current running through him at all times.
But he’s got new scars. A notch in his eyebrow, cutting it in half. New wrinkles around his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. New freckles dotting sun-kissed cheeks and nose, brought out by hours upon hours of working under a clear sky.
And he smiles more freely now. Looks at her not with guarded admiration, but openly, with so much love and desire that it makes Tifa’s head spin.
The outside of her bare thigh brushes against him. He’s warm, even though the fabric of his pants. This time, there’s no hesitation. This time, she leans into him, takes initiative, putting a hand on his cheek as she kisses him.
All that time doubting herself, doubting his feelings for her. Letting it hold her back from her innermost desires.
His lips are soft under hers.
She’ll never doubt again.
An hand on her thigh, inching upwards. Bare, no glove between his skin and hers. Callouses on his palms, the bite of short fingernails, scratching over her skin. The tickle of his teasing fingertips. A gasped breath, lodged in her throat.
She feels like a teenager again, like they’re doing something they’re not supposed to. Cloud’s tongue slips into her mouth, wet and hot, inviting hers out to dance. And how can she not accept when he smells so good, when he tastes so sweet?
A warm touch, tracing along the edge of her short skirt. Fingers, slipping in underneath.
”Cloud—” Heat shoots through her, the slow trickle of rising arousal turning into a flood, only broken up by a sudden worry. ”What if someone sees?”
”So what if they do?” He speaks the words softly against her lips. His hand keeps creeping upwards. The argument is compelling. Or maybe it isn’t, but Tifa’s brain isn’t too focused on logic right now, but rather on his warm hand between her legs, and on how much she wants to grind against it.
She gasps as his hand squeezes the very uppermost part of her inner thigh.
”Are you wet already?” he teases, running his knuckle over the seam of her pussy through damp underwear.
”Sh— shut up,” Tifa gasps back, one hand grasping at his wrist. She’s not pushing him away though. Rather the opposite, her fingers splaying over his skin, her body following the yearning to have him closer. And he follows, pressing kisses to her jaw as his fingers continue to tease her through her underwear. Fleeting touches, barely there, but still enough to send shivers down her spine. She can feel the muscles in his arm working, as he pulls her panties to the side.
He’s right. She’s soaking, hearing the wet sound as he uses two fingers to spread apart her labia. His lips are soft over her pulse point, before traveling upwards, tugging at her earring with his teeth, running the tip of his tongue over the shell of her ear.
Something between a sigh and a soft moan leaves her lips before she can stifle and bite it back.
”You okay?” he murmurs into her hair. She could tell him to stop. Could take him back to the hotel instead, have him make love to her on soft pillows, between warm sheets. Have him squeeze her tits in his hands, ride him into the mattress, take her time with him until both of them fall apart in each other’s arms.
Or, she could let him finger her in the skywheel gondola.
It’s an easy choice, when his lips leave goosebumps across her neck, when his index finger traces the question around her clit. She lets her legs fall open further, tugging at his wrist, impatiently urging him to touch her properly.
He doesn’t need much urging. He never has. He’s been looking at her when he thinks she doesn’t notice since long before she became aware of it, constantly scanning the little things, the hints and signals between the lines of her body language. After all his efforts, after all they’ve been through, he reads her like an open book. Eagerly and passionately, he loves her better than she ever thought she deserved. His fingers slip into her with a lewd, wet sound, and Tifa gasps, the pace of her breathing picking up as new waves of warm arousal wash over her.
She leans up to kiss him, letting his lips muffle the little sounds she can’t hold back, and he meets her halfway, drinking in her sighs and gasps, his fingers working a steady pace between her legs. When he pulls away, blue eyes looking at her intently, Tifa notices how far the wheel has turned while she’s been caught up in the feeling of him against her.
”Clouud—” she whines against his lips, trying to keep her voice hushed. Watching as the gondola approaches the bottom, yet lacking the conviction to actually stop his fingers as they work between her legs, making wet, soft noises every time his fingers dip into her. The ride’s ending and she’s close but not quite close enough—
”We’ll go another round.”
”But the attendants—”
”Better stay quiet then.” Soft, gentle words into her hair, but Tifa is sure she feels his grin against the crown of her head. He grinds the flat of his hand against her clit, while his fingers curl into her. After all this time, he knows exactly what gets her there, and what doesn’t.
He’s teasing her, the fleeting touches, just on the wrong side of connecting the way she needs them to. She clings to his arm, rests her head against his shoulder. His fingers curl lazily into her, his thumb tracing slow circles around her clit, a sweet torture, without the pressure or friction that she needs to get there.
It’s enough to keep fire burning in the pit of her stomach though, enough to send shivers of burning electricity through her veins, enough to make her thighs twitch and her fingers tangling in his shirt.
Cloud captures her lips with his as they pass the very bottom, swallowing any stray moans she can’t keep choked back in a wet and messy kiss.
No one says anything. No one bothers them. They’re sat at an angle where is probably not obvious to any potential onlookers what they’re doing
Probably. Probably is good enough for Tifa. It has to be when Cloud has his hand in her panties and his tongue in her mouth.
And when they’re out of sight, out of earshot, Cloud doubles his efforts, moving his hand up and down, a quick, ruthless rhythm that has Tifa choking on her moans. A sting of saliva connects their lips as he pulls away, his eyes staring at her with so much passion and intent that Tifa thinks she’s about to pass out. She can’t look away, keeping his blue gaze locked with hers, as her mouth falls open and she arches her back, grinding against his hand.
The warm, tight feeling in the pit of her stomach builds, and she clings to him, lets him take her higher.
His arm around her shoulders, keeping her close and steady. His fingers inside her, moving tirelessly. His soft, masculine scent. His burning blue gaze, locked on her and only her.
They’re at the very top, with fireworks all around them, loud enough to rival her keening moans, when he finally pushes her across the edge. She grinds against his hand, squeezes down around his fingers. He gasps against her skin as he works her through it, his lips, searing and wet, peppering kisses to her neck and jaw as his fingers curl into her until her body goes from rigid to boneless, slumping against him.
While she clings to his, he pulls her panties back into place, smooths her skirt down over her thighs again, and gives her knee a squeeze before resting there, as innocently as if nothing has happened.
”Good?” he murmurs, voice low and soft.
”Mhm,” Tifa hums back with a sigh, and the post-orgasmic bliss wins out over the oncoming anxiety. She feels Cloud smile against her hair.
The ride is over too soon, and this time, they really do have to get off.
Cloud stands up first, adjusting himself in his pants as he does, and Tifa immediately feels bad.
”I’ll make it up to you back in the room,” she whispers against his lips, hands cupping his face. Cloud pulls her into a kiss. Soft, gentle, but as they pull apart, Tifa nips at his bottom lip with her teeth, sealing her promise.
Her legs still tremble as they step off the gondola, and Cloud gives her his hand to steady her. She can’t bear to look at the attendants as they wish them a pleasant rest of their night.
Last they were here, she was too shy to look Cloud in the eye as they left the stuffy gondola where they shared their first kiss. Now, she loops her arm through his, not quite fully trusting her legs yet. He gladly steadies her.
When she looks up at him, a soft, smug smile graces his lips.
”Stop that,” she tells him, bumping her shoulder against his.
”Never.”