Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Bishies & Buster Swords ❯ Surrogate ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine; always returned to Square Enix only slightly rumpled.

 

A/N: Written for LiveJournal's SpringKink July 2010 round and based on the prompt of `Final Fantasy VII, Zack/Tifa, masturbation - Whispers in her ear, hand between her legs'.

 

This encounter takes place approximately an hour before Sephiroth begins his rampage in Nibelheim. Timeline details taken from The Lifestream's posting of the FFVII Compendium.

 

Warnings: Masturbation. Set in Last Order (or Crisis Core, whichever you prefer) universe, so while Tifa is legal in Japan and therefore presumably on Gaia, both she and Zack are potentially underage in other jurisdictions.

 

Thanks very much to my betas, Empatheia, Ranuel and SilverOnTheRose.

 

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Surrogate

 

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Heat rolled off the meadow in shimmering waves, washing over the edges of the cooling shade beneath the spreading boughs, lapping at her bare thighs and rippling the fringes of her discarded vest. Sweat beaded on her cheeks, trickled down the column of her throat as she rolled her hips in an urgent rhythm, caught fast in arousal's grip. Moaning breathily, she arched backwards into her companion's chest, baring the crook of her neck to his lips and tongue.

 

Tifa knew she shouldn't be straddling this stranger's lap with her skirt shoved up over her hips, listening to his low voice purring in her ear, permitting his hand between her legs. She didn't know why he'd carefully positioned her so that she faced away from him, but she didn't care because this way it was easier to pretend that it was Cloud's mouth on her skin, Cloud's hand cupping her breast, Cloud's fingers wreaking havoc on her senses.

 

The young officer's abrupt invasion of her private party had caused her to yelp in surprise and then crossly demand if sneaking up on people was a special SOLDIER technique whilst hastily tugging down her skirt. He said nothing, obviously as taken aback as she was, because a blush rapidly coloured his high cheekbones. Intense blue eyes took in her disarrayed clothing and her flushed skin that had nothing to do with the searing heat outside. Indecision briefly warred with something else in his expression before he crouched before her. Tifa hunched defensively as his gloved hand came up to lightly touch her cheek. Regarding her with a steady, sincere gaze, he huskily murmured, “Let me help you with that.”

 

Stunned, Tifa blinked rapidly, then let out a squeak when he leaned in. His dark hair brushed softly over her face as he whispered, “Trust me.” Her heartbeat instantly began hammering in her ears from a mix of fear and what felt like nervous anticipation as he pressed tender kisses across her cheeks, her chin, her forehead… but not her lips. She knew she should stop him, shouldn't let this handsome youth she'd first met only days before get so close, but his gentleness eroded her defences until she threw caution to the summer wind. As she shyly returned his caresses, she felt a brief twinge of remorse, but then locked it away because Cloud had not made any romantic declarations that night beside the water tower.

 

Frantically riding her companion's fingers, Tifa whimpered as he hummed encouragingly, his long forelock catching on the sweat spangling her chest. He remained fully dressed in the sweltering heat, probably to reassure her, the rough fabric of his trousers chafing her inner thighs, his woollen sweater prickling her damp skin. Tifa bucked and twisted, too lost in the sensations he was causing to notice the discomfort before she was gripped by a powerful orgasm that literally blanked her mind.

 

When the girl cried out and slumped in his arms, he waited patiently until her body relaxed before withdrawing his hand. Straightening Tifa's clothing, he arranged her in his lap and held her until her breathing evened out and deepened, her limbs slackening. Mentally wincing at the sharp jabs enthusiastically delivered by his conscience on behalf of Aerith, he belatedly hoped that Tifa wasn't the mystery girl beloved by the other `country boy' on this mission. Idly wondering - again - why Cloud adamantly insisted on remaining anonymous in his hometown, the officer closed his eyes and rested his chin on the top of the girl's head until a distant alarm snapped him to alertness.

 

A thin black coil rose into the still afternoon air over the distant roofs of Nibelheim; as he watched, a second joined it, then a third. The menacing crackle of burning wood, punctuated by more terrified screams galvanized him into action. Quickly laying the dozing girl on the soft loam, he tucked her vest around her when she mumbled an inarticulate complaint. Pausing long enough to make sure she settled back into a deeper slumber, he carefully smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Scooping up his discarded gloves and sword, he ducked out from under the tree's spreading branches. Slinging the oversized weapon onto his back with practiced ease, Zack broke into a dead run towards the sounds of spreading violence.

 

By the time Tifa awakened to the acrid pall of smoke hanging over the meadow, it was too late for regrets.

 

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