Saix stuck in Axel's body (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goddammitaxel) wrote2016-06-18 12:10 pm
goddammitaxel) wrote2016-06-18 12:10 pm
Part 1
Keep moving.
Some thoughts become other than thoughts, so long as you repeat them long enough. They become the fuel that sparks your veins, the pumps which make your blood floor. A mantra. Against all odds, no matter how broken your body is, some thoughts can force you to defy reality. Certain aspects of it, at least.
Keep moving.
Sweat has latched onto Tifa's long hair, keeping it captive and sticky along her neck or her arms whenever she ducks beneath gunfire. In the flickers of light her and Barrett pass through, she can see a black dark as tar smeared along her arms. Actual tar, oil from pipes, sooth from the explosion... Who knows. Speaking of not knowing, she has no idea what the rest of her looks like, but she imagine it can't be good. Her knuckles ache, down to the bone, and the feeling of faint stickiness tells her of a wound long before she starts seeing the stain spread through leather. It's not just her knuckles. Her whole body aches. Her heart aches. She can still smell fire and weakening metal.
Keep moving.
It's a long way back to Sector 7 and its familiar smells of garbage, poverty, and alcohol. Whenever they find a place to catch their breath- a situation that gets more common the farther from the Sector 5 Reactor they get- Tifa looks at Barret. Well, she smells him first, honestly. It's not the tang of sweat or the bitter curl of gunpowder that she notices; Tifa is used to that. By now, it's just as much a part of her with how much she's ducked against him when "pray and spray" was a better tactic than punching a soldier through a brick wall.
What she smells is sour desperation and burnt flesh.
There's no medicine or materia for desperation. Tifa can't fix that. Yet she has to do something, because sitting curled up against a wall just makes her replay the scene of a few hours ago over and over again: her hand desperately outstretched, wind tugging at Cloud's blond strands, and weary acceptance in those too bright eyes. Had that been confidence or surrender?
She shakes her head and pushes herself up on weary legs, drawing his attention. She can't fix desperation, but there's a Restore materia lodged firmly in one of her gloves. Burned skin she can do something about. "Give me your hand," she says, voice a whisper but firm as steel.
"Wh- Tifa, ain't any time for that, I'm fine-"
"Barret. Give me your hand right now." Somewhere in the middle of that, her voice breaks- something that she feels before she hears it for herself. She swallows, barely enough spit to wet her throat, and stands firm. Whether it's the flicker of weakness or her clear stubbornness, Barret's shoulders slump after a second.
"It really ain't bad," he protests, apparently more out of obligation than conviction as he removes his hand from the barrel of his gun and holds it out to her.
A whole life of tireless work and stubborn passion shows in his hand. She's the brawler, the hand-to-hand fighter. Yet her hands aren't even half as callused as Barret's one, and about as big too. Could fit all around her waist, probably. Right now, however, there's more tender flesh that's been pressed to the hot metal of a gun than calluses. The materia in her gloves glimmers, and she watches as skin knits itself back together. She lets her fingers roam over the length of his fingers as it works, hair heavy against her back. "You know," she says quietly, "Marlene is going to worry if you pick her up and your hand is all ruined."
"Think you raise a fuss more than Marlene."
A smile flickers across her lips. "That's because Marlene doesn't know she can raise a fuss."
"Hey, don't go teachin' her bad habits." Tifa's smile strengthens, just for a moment, but it's startled right off her face when Barret's hand suddenly wraps around hers. "...Hey." She raises her head to look at him and takes in his furrowed brow, the trouble in those dark eyes. Barret struggles for words for a moment before forcing them out. "It wasn't your fault."
She knows what he's talking about in a heartbeat, and glances away with her shoulders rising up stiffly. "I left-"
"You didn't leave shit," Barret interrupts her gruffly, and the force of his words has her look up into his eyes again. They're both so close, Tifa can't tell if it's the heat from his gun or his body keeping her warm in the cold. "If anybody, I was the one who left 'im."
"Barret..."
His jaw stiffens. "But it was 'cuz I couldn't leave you behind. I ain't gonna lose anyone, not if I can help it." He lets out a breath. "...And anyways, I haven't paid that twiggy jackass yet. Just watch, he'll drag himself outta the grave to get his money, the cheapo."
A laugh tumbles out of her before she can stop it, and she has to raise a hand to cover her mouth. There's not so much danger now, since the two of them are roughly back in Sector 7, but caution has her try anyway. Barret gives a rough little grin and lets go of her hand, only to tug her close to his side. Combined, they both smell filthy but Tifa doesn't care. She just lets herself stay against him, basking in the heat as they make their way to the bar. They can get home first before thinking on anything else.
At least, those are her thoughts until Barret pauses around the corner of a precariously constructed building and whispers, "Who the hell is that?"
Tifa wiggles out from the muscles of his arm and side, peering around to see what he's talking about. By no means would she say she's the best bartender. However, Tifa could name and point out the faces of every single resident of Sector 7, plus the few regulars who straggle in from the others. The guy lurking around 7th Heaven? He's not anyone she recognizes.
"Someone suspicious," she mutters, watching as he tries to act nonchalant even as he's peering through some of the windows. The weight of Barret's arm leaves her shoulders, but she places his hand over it when he lays his hand on his gun. "I'll go around and corner him." She grins up to him. "And then you can play big bad terrorist." Barret grins right back.
After that, taking care of their uninvited guest is pure and simple. Some skillful maneuvering and liberal doses of gunfire later, and their sneak is eagerly spilling out his guts to both of them. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of useful information in those guts. In the end, all he can tell them is that Don Corneo sent him to find the hideout of AVALANCHE. For all that he's obvious small fry, Tifa still calls some favors from her neighbors in to make sure it takes him a nice long time before he can get back to either Sector Six or Don Corneo.
But that still leaves her and Barret. Alone in 7th Heaven.
On some level, she knows her body is exhausted from escaping an exploding reactor and staying on the run from Shinra goons for hours. Despite that fact, renewed energy is buzzing through her veins as she doubles down on the locks for the front doors and Barret slumps down in one of the chairs that are never really big enough for him. "What are we going to do?" she asks, biting back the urge to pace through the whole bar or kick down a wall with one strong kick.
Barret passes his hand over his eyes. "What we gonna do? Rest for the night, recover, regroup, wait for the heat to die down."
"I mean about Don Corneo."
"That guy?" Barret snorts, exhausted. "Just some perv. There's no need to worry about that kinda guy."
Unable to stop herself, Tifa lets her feet guide her in a harried pace through the bar. "He had someone scoping out where AVALANCHE could be, Barret! Maybe he's looking to sell us to Shinra so that his disgusting ventures over in Sector 5 can keep going! We can't just- let ourselves ignore it!"
"Tifa- " Wood groans and creaks under the weight of him as he rises up from his chair.
"If we don't do anything-" His fingers wrap around one muscled arm like she's made of sticks, of nothing. "If we just sit and let nothing happen-"
"Tifa!" He pulls her close, getting her to face him. "Calm down-"
She doesn't think. Her whole being is alight with frantic energy, and she just can't think. Barret is there, has always been there, and he's so close. Something about that fact erases all thought, and, before she knows what she's doing, Tifa reaches up with her free arm. Her fingers curl around the back of his neck, thick and slick with sweat, and she tugs him down with all the strength in her until their lips are crushed together.
Everything about Barret feels steady. She presses herself against him and the expanse of his chest is a brick wall that will never crumble. A shudder of pleasure goes down her back as she presses her breasts against him. Before she can get lost in the sensation, she's being pulled back. "Tifa!"
She can't look him in the eyes. Tifa squeezes her own shut, and pushes her words out from a tight throat. "I watched him fall and couldn't- didn't do anything about it. I need to do something. So, Barret- please." She has to keep moving, or else she'll fall apart.
For a moment, there's no answer. Anxiety buzzes in her gut, ready to burst aflame at the slightest provocation, but then a sigh flows across her face. "Yeah," comes Barret's low rumble. "Yeah." She doesn't know what it means, not exactly, but there's no time to figure it out before Barret lets go of her arm and cups her cheek. Tifa's eyes flutter open, and she looks upon the awkwardly soft expression that has taken up residences on Barret's gruff face. In contrast to her own actions, when he leans in to kiss her, it's soft and sweet. With nothing holding her back anymore, Tifa wraps her other arm around his neck and presses her full weight against him. Amidst all the empty tables and utter silence, it feels as though the two of them are the only two people who matter in the entire world.
What starts soft doesn't stay that way for long. Tifa has no idea when the shift occurs, only that one moment he's kissing her like he's afraid she'll break and the next they're kissing like they fight- with a passion and roughness that can't be matched by anyone else. Her nails dig into the top of his spine, knuckles brushing against his shirt collar. Even though she knows she healed it, his palm still feels like it's burning from where his calluses smooth along her side. Lost in the sensation of his mouth and his heat, Tifa doesn't notice anything else until metal is bumping clumsily against her thigh and Barret pulls away with a slight curse.
"Dammit-"
"Barret-"
"I know it's not the kind of thing a lady wants to feel, I-"
An apology is on the tip of his tongue, she can feel it, but Tifa puts a stop to that by kissing him again, harder. "It's fine," she murmurs against his lips, grounding her feet against the floor again instead of standing on the tips. "You're fine. I don't want anyone else, alright? So just-" Smoothing her hands against his back, she guides him downwards until her legs are sprawling along the bar floor and Barret is on his knees over her.
"Your ass is gonna get so many splinters," he declares, but his lips are curved in a smile as he mouths kisses along the curve of her throat and his good hand tugs at her skirt.
"But now you won't have to worry about anything," she laughs, the airy sound twisting into a gasp as one rough finger brushes against the inside of her thigh. Barret's mouth is as hot as his gun, burning into every spot of her skin where he kisses her. The heat spreads through her, warming skin and exciting her blood, until a flame of pleasure is stirring in the pit of her. Beneath him, she squirm and draws her legs up until her knees are brushing against his sides. His fingers are a little clumsy as they touch her, dipping against her sex over her underwear, but there's something about his calluses that makes her shiver. "And I'll handle it, don't worry."
He doesn't say anything back. Maybe it's because he trusts her. Maybe it's because he's busy leaving a mark against the soft skin along her collar bone. Either way it doesn't matter, not in the moment. All that does is the burn in her legs as she heaves up to grind against him with fluttering gasps and low moans that echo back through his own chest. Cool air hitting her exposed crotch makes her jolt; it takes her a second to realize he's pulled her underwear to the side. The only things that have ever touched her there have never been rougher than her own hands. That's nothing compared to the way Barret touches her, gruff fingers making her ache. When his fingers pull away, she surprises herself with the choked whine that comes from her own throat.
What starts off as embarrassment shifts into playful indignation at the snicker Barret breathes against her throat. Banging her fist against the back of his shoulder, she says, "If you don't touch me-" The rest of her words get lost in a hitch of breath as she feels something hot and thick brush against her thigh.
"Ease up," is mouthed into her shoulder, and Tifa tries her best even though every bit of her body wants to freeze up and close in on itself. Barret feels twice as large as any fingers she's dared to slide into herself. All the muscles of her body protest at the stretch but, just like any other, there's a thread of pleasure that winds straight through her. It pulses through that coil of heat and makes her shake. When Barret groans, she feels more than hears it. When he stops pushing into her, only halfway there, she has to catch her breath again and ease her nails out from his back. "Alright?" Barret forces out, voice tight.
Tifa's only answer is to kiss him, passionate and ravenous, until they're both breathless when they pull away. One thrust, slow but deep, makes Tifa arch up against him with her body half off the floor as she draws her legs around him. Another, shallow, quicker, grinding up inside of her and making her writhe. Again and again and again, faster with each thrust, until the force of his body against hers makes the wood floor groan almost as loud as they are.
Soon enough, however, even the creaks of the wood start to fade out and become nothing but white noise. There's only overwhelming pleasure that wipes away everything else. No suffocating anxiety. No excess energy that makes her tremble. All there is, all that she needs, is the feel of Barret's muscles bearing down on her and pinning her against the floor no matter how much she writhes. Every push and pull in her sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body. There's a sole bit of her mind trying to keep its head above the waves of bliss, trying to point out she should do something back... Barret thrusts deep into her and stars erupt behind her eyelids. Her fingers scramble against the rolling muscles of his back as she rides it out, voiceless and gasping, and she can't stop the ecstasy. She can't stop because he's not stopping, still thrusting into her with steady grunts, and one orgasm rolls seamlessly into the next. Tifa doesn't even know what noises she's making, only that her throat feels raw as she slumps against the ground. Slowly, the lights in her eyes are exchanged for being blinded by the lights up in the ceiling. It takes her a moment to realize that Barret is slumped against her, his breath hot against the side of her neck. Something has filled her all up.
For a few minutes, they simply lay there as the afterglow stays wrapped tight around them. Soon, however... Well. They're on a bar floor. It's not the most comfortable place to be, exactly. Barret starts to push himself off of her with a grunt, and she grimaces as reality comes back to her in the reminder that she was sore to begin with. She swears the whole bar practically shakes as Barret thumps down besides her, sitting up and partially pantsless. There's practically a whistle in the way he exhales. "Sorry," he says, gruff in that way where he's obviously embarrassed and floundering with the emotion. "Shoulda asked before I.... you know."
His 'you know' is still deep inside her, and Tifa delicately rearranges her panties so that they're not digging in awkwardly. "It's fine," she says, suddenly embarrassed now that the deed is done. "I mean... I don't think I would have heard you anyway." She grins, sheepish.
Snorting, Barret shakes his head fondly. "You know, I wanna say 'hey I'm just that damn good', but I ain't gonna lie. For a minute there, I was sure I was gonna come out of that deaf as hell. You were so loud-" Before Tifa can protest, red faced, Barret suddenly goes silent. For a moment, she doesn't comprehend the way his brows furrow and his jaw hang slightly open.... But then it hits her.
Tifa goes pale. "Marlene!" she gasps in time with Barret, and they both scramble over to the pinball machine. Even as she's panicking, however, she has to slam her hands up against her mouth to muffle her strangled laughter. "Barret, your pants-!"
Barret completely ignores her. He's focused purely on banging the pinball machine and shoving his head down the hole the second the elevator has moved far down enough. After she's swallowed down her adrenaline fueled giggles, Tifa crawls besides him and does the same with her hair flopping down to sway and hang. What she spots draws a wobbly smile to her lips: Marlene sprawled out on a pile of pillows in the corner, slackjawed and deep breathed in sleep. Apparently, not even the grind and rumble of the elevator can wake her up. Despite that, her and Barret still try to will it to be quieter when they closer it back up. As the locking mechanisms slide into place, Barret pushes himself up to his feet and wobbles to over one of the stools at the bar. He sprawls into it, back pressing into the counter and arms spread out against it. His sigh is hilariously loud. "Ho-ly shit. I thought I'd just scarred a four year old for life."
"I think you would have scarred her more because of the fact that you still haven't pulled up your pants," Tifa laughs, dusting off her knees. A giddiness is bubbling in her chest, like the foam threatening to poor over a glass. She thought she'd used up her adrenaline fighting off Shinra goons, but here it is again, in full force. She could run a marathon around the whole of Sector 7. Instead, she reaches under her skirt and slides her underwear down until she can kick it off to some corner. A definite bounce is in her step as she goes over to Barret and he grunts as she swings her leg over him to straddle his lap. This feels even better than when he's over her, she thinks while she settles her hands along his broad shoulders. It's satisfying, feeling this miniature giant beneath her, all muscles and stability. "Not going to pull them up any time soon?"
A thrill snaps up her spine as his hand settles along her hips again. "Doors locked, I don't see a reason why I gotta. Don't tell me you still got energy. Damn, I must be getting rusty."
"I don't mind." She kisses him again- it's becoming one of her favorite things, the slide of his lips and the brush of his stubble. "I'll help you polish up."
It's selfish, she knows it is, but she can't help herself. Doing this is easier than getting lost in regrets and memories. Relief washes over her as Barret kisses her back, and she slides a hand down to his chest. It's up to her to work him back up, so she pulls all the tricks she can think of. Her hand kneads into his chest, drawing out low rumbling sounds that shake into her and pressing out a nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt. She has to stop when he helps pull down her suspenders, arms slipping beneath them, but then she's right back at it.
All the heat that had enveloped them when they were fucking on the floor like animals is coming back in a rush. Barret is as hot as his gun beneath her, to the point that it's getting her worked up only groping at his chest. Then again, maybe it's the work of his hand. He only has the one, but it can cup the entire curve of her ass. He pulls her so close, and Tifa groans into their kiss, breathless already. Her chest is squeezed against his, and rubbing against him starts a pounding ache between her legs. Wantonly, she reaches down between them. Now that she's not so lost in the throes of arousal, it really hits her how thick he is. Only half hard, and she can barely wrap her fingers around him to stroke him back to fullness.
Whether it's the press of her breasts on him, the way she massages and digs her fingers into his chest, her kiss, her handjob- soon enough she feels it not only hard and throbbing in her hand but brushing back up against her thighs. She has to force herself off of his mouth, breathing hard. Faintly, she thinks her lips must be bruised from the force of it all, but she doesn't care. She's too busy squeezing her legs around Barret's thighs as she adjusts her position. It's a hell of a precarious place to be; she's kind of regretting this particular impulse decision actually. Yet with Barret's hand on her back, she manages just fine. Using her hand to guide his cock, Tifa takes a deep breath. Her heart is pounding in her throat feeling the tip of it teasing her entrance. It's one thing for Barret to do it, but it's something else entirely for it to be literally in her own hands.
From the corner of her eyes, she can see him open his mouth. Tifa has a feeling she knows exactly what he wants to say. Before he can do it, she bites the bullet and sinks her hips down. She means to do it quick and smooth, exactly like him, but oh. Her head rolls back as he stretches her out, and her lips tremble as they fall open. They groan in symphony as she sinks down onto his cock. Every inch, she thinks she can't take anymore, that she's as full as she could possibly be, but her body proves her wrong every time. It's an eternity of pleasure until she feels her thighs settle on his. Gasping for air, eyelashes fluttering, she realizes she's taken him all in. It's knowledge that makes her tighten up in excitement, and Barret's fingers dig into her skin as he hisses.
"Too much?" she gasps, trying for 'tease' and coming off as 'lascivious'. Barret's only answer is to smack his hand against her butt, and Tifa jolts forward with a strangled incomprehensible noise that tumbles from her lips.
The electricity that bursts through her, winding around her spine and wiping everything in her head clean, makes her quiver on his lap. It's all she needs to move into action. Her thighs burn as she raises her hips and plunges them down again, and her moan echoes throughout the bar. Spreading her fingers along Barret's chest, she works on moving faster and faster. Past everything, she thinks she can hear the slick wet sound of him pushing into her and flesh slapping into each other. For whatever reason, that stirs her up even more, and Tifa lets her head fall back. There's nothing outside her body and the thrust of his cock dragging out pure bliss. That's why it's such a shock when she feels a rough hand grasp her breast. Pure white shoots through her mind, her vision, like a shooting star, and it takes her a second to come back to the real world right as her keening whine is tapering off. Barret's hand kneads at her chest, making her body squeeze down on him, and Tifa rocks her hips thoughtlessly to encourage a thumb sweeping over one perked nipple. "O-Oh," she gasps, arching her back and pressing into his touch. "Do that again-"
His laugh rumbles into her, from both between her legs and her hands at his chest. It lightens her up even as it drags her down into a sea of pleasure. The buzz of ecstasy fills her mind and keeps her pleasantly distracted, unable to do much when he slips his hand beneath her shirt. His thumb makes its way underneath the front of her bra, tugging, and she sighs as her breasts pop out unrestrained. Cool air makes her burning body sink against him again. It's not a feeling that lasts long. Leaving her bra and shirt together resting atop her chest, he cups her again. It's not just a repeat of his fingers digging into her skin, however. Gripping one breast, he leans forward and latches his mouth against her chest. The way he sucks causes Tifa to jolt, and her eyes flutter shut.
She'd never thought about her breasts being used this way, not really, but Barret's mouth feels so good where it is with his stubble scraping against her. That's not all of it, only a small part. His sucking is going to leave a mark, but she doesn't stop him. In fact, encouragingly, she grinds down on him with a roll of her hips. Her reward is not a suck to skin, but his lips right at her nipple. Tifa can't even describe the noises she's making anymore, only that they're loud and drowning out the wet sounds of her body sucking him in at the same time that he's sucking on her. Her nipple is so erect it nearly hurts as Barret rolls it along his tongue. All the pleasure, fortunately, more than makes up for it.
Maybe it's the attention to her chest, or maybe it's because her body is still so sensitive from before, but all too soon, Tifa feels herself tumbling over the edge again with pleasure scorching her mind clear of thought. Barret doesn't stop beneath her, the throbbing from his dick nearly as bad as the grind of it into her body, and she's left a shaking mess making noise on top of him. It almost hurts, the pleasure her body demands, and her fingers scramble at his chest. "Barret-" His lips release her nipple with a pop, and Tifa shakes again as cold air makes it stiffen more.
"Had enough?" His breath makes the words gust hotly against her skin. Without thinking, she squeezes down on him and sighs at the way his moan reverberates throughout her. Still, the challenge pulls her back to earth. Even overcome with the rapturous feelings of sex, she tries to smirk wobbly down at him.
"I can handle whatever you give me."
She sees the spark in his eyes, the glimmer of challenge accepted, before she realizes that he's pressing his hand around her ass at the same time he's pushing up to his feet. Hastily, she latches her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist just to keep her balance. She's not expecting the way the new angle twists her insides or the pleasure that jolts through her. It'd be so easy for her to squeeze her body against his, ride him this way. She even almost does it. Before she can, however, she finds herself being sprawled along the surface of a table. Blinking back into awareness with a flushed face, she looks up at Barret. "What-"
"Let's see how you deal with this," he grunts, bracing himself against the table with his gun arm. His hand squeezes her ass as he keeps her right where she is, her hips raised up and legs still around his waist. There's no way for her to prepare herself for the way he pulls his hips back and then slams into her, rocking the table with the force of his thrust. Tifa's cry not only hits the ceiling, it breaks through it. Her fingers dig into her own wrists, a self made lock to force him to stay where he is as he pulls nearly back out again. The head of his dick teases at her opening where she clenches to unconsciously keep him inside of her, and then he pounds into her again. It's worse- better- than how he'd done her against the floor. There'd been a little care, that first time, tentative and uncertain of things as they were. There's none of that now. He doesn't stop or go slow even once, and the rhythm of the table legs banging against the floor is perfectly in harmony with the way his body slaps against hers.
Yet it's not enough. For all that she's besides herself, she wants more. With her arms still wrapped around his neck, she jerks his head up away from her chest to greedily latch her lips against his. Saliva drips past her lips at their messy kiss, mouths sliding against one another because he won't stop beating his cock into her. Tifa doesn't care. All she can think about is the way their tongues entangle, slick and hot. Moaning, kissing, breaking away to scream in ecstasy at the empty bar- there's not a second for her to get air. Barret moves his mouth down against the curve of her neck and Tifa rolls her head back, giddy and dizzy. Words that don't feel like her own start to spill out of her mouth.
"Barret- aaah!" Her thighs squeeze tighter around his sides. "Ah, ah, oh-!" He pulls out, and she thrusts her hips upwards to meet the way he shoves into her again. "AH! Please- don't stop!" A part of her wants to yell for him to go faster, harder, but, even as she thinks it, she can feel the table's legs lift up off of the floor and slam down against it again. She bounces against both it and his cock driving into her, crying out. Her legs spasm against him, squeezing tighter. "Barret!"
He sucks hard against the soft skin by her collarbone. Creaking wood, banging table legs, and the slick slapping of his cock and balls against her ass make such a ruckus, she doubts she could hear a Shinra army storming the bar. So it takes her a moment, past all her own groans and gasps, to realize that Barret is huffing out words into her chest. It takes her even longer to make them out. "Nngh, yeah, fuck, keep goin', gonna make you scream so loud, gonna fill you the fuck up 'til you're drippin' with my cum-"
The idea alone melts Tifa, her insides squirming and squeezing around his cock as she moans lustfully. "Do it!" she begs him, and screams when his next thrust reaches deeper than she ever thought possible, the deepest he's gone by far. O-Oh. He'd liked that. Tifa anchors her nails into his back and keeps talking, her words coming out in pants and moans. "Barret- fuck me hard- do it so that I don't think of anything else but yooooh!" His deep penetration slides her along the table, and she loses all ability to speak for a second. Lodged inside of her, his dick throbs and sends out waves of pleasure. "That! Nnngh, that, Barret, just like that, oh! Fill me up with your cum, please!" Her mouth could keep moving, fucked silly as she is, light headed as she is. Any filter control she has is on the fritz, letting all her desires and eagerness take the wheel instead.
Her wish comes true in only a few more thrusts. He slams deep into her, hard enough to knock her brains out, and a gush of wet heat pours into her. Barret's cum was already nestled inside of her body, sticky and clinging to every bit of her insides, from the first time he'd fucked her not twenty minutes ago, and more of it makes her feel so full and satisfied. Tifa arches her spine, keening as she welcomes more of his dick inside of her body. His cock stirs up her insides, churns his cum, and she can feel it dripping out of her already to drag down the curve of her ass. One, two, three more hard thrusts into her as she rides out her own orgasm, and then her back thumps against the table. Barret's own body soon follows, slumping half on top of her as they lay there limply with heavy breaths. They only lay there for a moment before Tifa pushes at Barret's shoulder. "Bedroom," she murmurs, voice still laden with desire. Her body isn't her own anymore, at least it doesn't feel like it. All she can feel is how good it feels to have his cock stretching out her insides and the cum squeezed in every available space. When Barret pulls out and she gets up onto unsteady feet, she can already feel everything start to drip out of her gaping hole and leaving sticky trails down her thighs.
Upstairs, over the bar, are their rooms when they feel safe enough to actually sleep in them. Tifa doesn't think she can wait that long, however, not with the ache between her legs which would make traversing all those stairs impossible. Instead, she tries to guide the two of them to a back room of the bar. Nothing fancy, just a spare little thing they can lock drunkards into when they feel bad for them instead of dumping them onto the street.
The key words: tries.
They're not even halfway down the hall before their hands on on each other again. Barret squeezes her breast as she shoves him against the wall, nearly shaking the whole building. The bar could fall on top of them and Tifa doesn't think she'd care. All she cares about is grinding up against him. His dick is already hot and hard again, still sticky with his cum and her slick juices. It slides against her hips as she presses against him. The feel of it is addicting, but not as much as when they dive into an aggressive kiss again. Lips slipping against each other, tongues tangling, teeth scraping against soft flesh- it gets so intense that after a while Tifa can't tell where she stops and Barret begins. Roughly, he reverses their positions until she's sprawled up against the wall and she breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Barret- I need your cock, drive it into me-!"
Even as she says the words, she doesn't actually have any idea how they're going to do it. Her mind is too fucked fuzzy to consider anything but the end goal she craves. Barret has her covered however. He bends down, sucking marks all the way down from her throat to her breast, until he can wrap his fingers around her thigh. Swiftly and suddenly, he raises her leg up as high as it can go- and considering all the training she's done to her body, that's nearly straight up with her knee pressing into her chest. Tifa gasps and whimpers at the electricity that jolts out from how exposed she is, a feeling that twists her stomach into knots. Her palms press up against the wall, instinct that's been pushed into keeping her balanced, and just in time. Pressing up against her, his cock misses the entrance to her body and grinds up against it instead, and Tifa's eyes flutter to the back of her head for a brief second. As she recovers from the momentary bliss, Barret pulls back and tries again. Already filled with his cum and dripping wet, his dick slides in effortlessly, like her hole was always made for it. As he pushes in, he pushes the cum in her out, and Tifa can't describe the noises that fall from her slack jaw as she feels it drip over her folds. There's no time to take in the thick sound of it plopping against the wooden floor. With a grunt, Barret begins to grind into her, and Tifa forgets all about everything but him.
Unlike the other two times they fucked, this time it's not immediately brutal and viciously fast. Instead, his pace is slow and deep. Every thrust is him nearly pulling out and, when he shoves his hips forward again, it's with a hard grind that has his dick set fire to her insides. Her body twists for stability, pressed up against the wall, and she curls one hand into a fist. Keening, she reaches back to try and grab him again. "Barret- fuck me faster, please-"
His breath is hot, steaming, as it puffs against her ear and the curve of her neck. "You want my cock, you got my cock, don't you?" His dick grinds int as far as it can go again, and the one leg she has keeping her steady trembles.
"More-"
"More what?" He grunts, and this time goes just a little faster. Tifa's free hand finds his shirt and fists into it.
"Faster!" She swallows roughgly, tugging at him. "Harder! I want-" The words aren't even formed in her mouth when Barret pulls back and slams into her again just like all the times before. Tifa's words fragment into a wanton scream that rattles the bare to its core. All she can do is cling to the wall as he resumes a punishing pace, balls slapping against her ass and thigh.
In no time at all, he's reduced her to a quivering orgasmic mess as her release ricochets through every single inch of her body. The world is washed out, scorching and rapturously carnal, and Tifa thinks she's been fucked right into an out-of-body experience. Everything feels so far away when she starts to come back to herself, barely aware of how Barret lets go of her leg or the way she starts to crumple against the wall. His arm loops around her waist completely, hauling her up against his sweaty warm body, and Tifa can't even get the thoughts together to hold onto him. She merely lets him carry her exhausted and lax body into the back room. For the first time in hours, she thinks she's finally starting to lose all the energy that's been rattling her very bones. The only part that isn't completely devoid of energy is the buzz of her sex drive.
Before she can relax too much, however, Barret shifts her in her grasp. He tosses her onto the bed almost carelessly, and Tifa yelps as her body hits the mattress bouncing. That's one way to snap out of it. Huffing out a breath, she pushes herself up on her elbows and smiles as she sees him starting to shed what little of his clothes he still has left on. "Now who has energy?" she mutters as his weight joining her on the bed makes it dip. Drawing up one leg, she reaches down and stretches herself out for him. "You fucked all of your cum out of me... Fill me up with it again, Barret."
He presses inbetween her spread legs, still erect cock rubbing up against her while his mouth descends on her chest again. Tifa tosses her head back, hair spread out against the cushions and a groan rolling out of her throat. She squirms beneath him with every suck of her chest, unable to handle it with her body still so sensitive. The good news is that Barret stops soon enough. The bad news is that he does so purely to adjust himself over her, hips rocking into hers until he's pushing into her again. So much fucking has left her sore and overly sensitive. Even just the single initial thrust has her arching her body up into his, breasts squishing against his muscular chest. Her legs draw up to wrap themselves around his waist as her arms do the same about his neck. "Barret!" she cries out again, digging her fingers into his back. "Again-" She can't even finish her request before his kiss is stealing the words and breath straight out of her throat. His cock and tongue plunge together into her almost as if in sync, ravaging her body in two of its holes. Best as she can, she kisses him back, their tongues tangling together messily and saliva dripping from their mouths and splattering against the top of her breasts.
When they finally break apart, Tifa has to gasp for air with bruised and slick lips. Barret doesn't even take a second. All he does is get right back into it, head bowed as he pistons his hips into her body. So much pleasure pulses through her that Tifa isn't even sure she can think straight. All she can do is go along with the flow of her body and the bliss that shakes her. Bodily instinct carries her through, clinging to Barret while the bed slams into the wall again and again. Her screaming moans, the banging, all of that ensures that their meager neighbors will know what's happened tonight. It doesn't matter. Tifa just squeezes down on his cock harder, encouraging his ruthless pace, and melts as his body presses down against hers. They're squeezed so close together that his flesh is able to grind against her clit when he digs into her with his dick. It's a new and different kind of feeling compared to the fucking they've been doing before. Instead of a constant roll of pleasure, it's like being shot with jolts of lightning but instead of pain she's thrusting herself up for more of it.
Everything leaves her dizzy with feeling. Faintly, she knows there's the distant sickening smell of alcohol, but all she can focus on is the smell of gundpowder and Barret's sweat, of sex, as he fucks her. Her insides have taken on the shape of his cock, it feels like, and Tifa shivers with a moan at the very thought. "Barret-" She trails off of his name with a scream as he slams as deep as he can into her. "BARRET! Do it, harder, fill me up, do it-"
"Tifa-"
"I love you, please-!"
Barret slams into her for one last time and stars erupt behind Tifa's eyes as the orgasm rocks her utterly and completely. She screams out his name right as he screams out hers, and the two of them cling tightly to one another as they come in unison. His hot cum washing through her seems to go through her whole body, carried by her orgasm. As the feeling ebbs away, all Tifa can do is lay there with Barret on top of her and the two of them panting together. Nothing feels real in that moment as they stay there on the bed, bodies pressed together with him still inside of her. Distant city lights filter in through the closed shades, sharp neon and orange cutting across the bed and their entwined bodies in thin lines. Tifa isn't sure how much time passes as the sweat cools along their bodies before Barret finally pushes himself up off of her with a grunt. Now that the adrenaline is finally starting to go away, she's starting to become more aware of her body. An ache, the unarousing kind, is more than apparent in her lower body, and she's starting to remember just how much crap she's covered in from their run away from the reactor.
For how gross she feels, that doesn't stop Barret in wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close to his side. "So, uh," he starts in that gruff way where he dials it up to 11 as if that can hide his awkwardness. (It has yet to ever succeed, in Tifa's experience.) "I love you too. If that wasn't just a, you know-"
Wiggling onto her side, she pats his chest. "It wasn't. I mean, a little bit, but..."
"Right, right."
Unable to help herself, Tifa giggles. "Are all post-sex talks this awkward?"
"If I'm bein' straight with ya? Hell naw. I'm usually out like a light right after." He doesn't outright say that he was worried about her, but Tifa can tell anyway. It makes her smile into his skin. For not the first time, she's glad she's become a part of Avalanche. It's just that this time it's for entirely different reasons.
"Well, feel free to go out any second now." Barret's responding rumble of a laugh shakes through her, but it evens out soon enough into easy breathing. After a while, probably just a few minutes, his breath becomes much deeper and slower.
If only sleep would come as easily to Tifa. She's no longer vibrating with adrenaline or squirming with arousal, but that doesn't mean she's tired. Logically, she should be, but her mind just doesn't want to turn itself off. Instead, she lays there tucked against Barret's chest and watches as the lights from outside shift everytime the train passes through. Even at night, Sector 7 isn't a quiet place. Maybe in one of the nicer Sectors, that's how it is- people tucking in and the world going quiet. But down in the slums, people are always moving, always working, always trying to do something.
Maybe that explains something about her.
When it becomes clear to her that there's no way she's going to sleep anytime soon, Tifa delicately lifts up Barret's arm and slides out from under it. Her legs are still shaky when she gets up to her feet, but hey. She's been hit by harder and worse, right? Like giant SHINRA robots. Sure, those hits usually didn't go into her, ah... vagina, but still. By the time she's ducking out of the door, she's already twice as steady. Looking down the hall, Tifa's face starts to heat up. Oh. Right. She'd forgotten about all the semen.
At least it's something to do. In shorts and a loose t-shirt she grabs from her room upstairs, Tifa gets to work on cleaning everything up. The semen that had slipped out of her is scrubbed off of the floor. Her underwear is fetched off of the corner of the television set up behind the bar. (It went that far? Yikes.) She makes sure to double down on cleaning the bar seats and table they'd done the deed on. Let it never be said that she runs an unclean bar, even in the slums.
When she's well and done, Tifa flops onto one of the bar stools and looks around. No, no.... She's still not sated. Frowning, she sweeps a hand through her hair and sighs. Running from SHINRA, a long night of sex, cleaning up 7th Heaven... She should be done by now, right? So what is it? What's keeping her from taking a break?
...Who is she kidding. Tifa knows exactly why she's like this. It's the exact same image that she'd gone to Barret to forget: her fingers outstretched while Cloud plummeted down to earth. Even then, it's not exactly the image that's getting to her, but being motionless... Unable to move forward and grab him.
In the emptiness of the bar, her huff of laughter is louder than it should be. She just can't stop, can she? She's a train on the tracks, stuck moving forward. Getting up, she dusts herself off and tugs off her gloves. Stretching her hands out in front of her makes the wounds on her knuckles all the more obvious. Bruises and blood seem like they're a part of her hands now. Well, that won't do at all. She's going to have to play the part of a cute and inoffensive girl, and cute inoffensive girls don't look like they've taken on a whole bar and won.
After all, only cute and inoffensive girls get to see that sleazeball Don Corneo. Only a cute and inoffensive girl could get close enough to grab him by the balls and make sure he was very truthful in telling her just what the hell one of his goons was doing sniffing around for AVALANCHE.
Step one to being a cute and inoffensive girl is getting herself cleaned up, of course. It helps that taking a nice hot shower makes Tifa melt from relief, so much that she almost forgets to scrub away all the dirt and grime. Finishing up with clean up is Materia, a girl's best friend in getting rid of bruises and scrapes. By the time she's done, there's nothing to hint that she can bench press a car. Final touches require a good outfit. Going through her closet, Tifa is so thankful for the female friends she's made while working the bar who show their appreciation when she delivers their drunk boyfriends home. Over the years, they've shown their appreciation in all sorts of ways: makeup that can't normally be found down in Sector 7, pleasant perfumes, and, most important of all, a sleek blue minidress. She'd never cared for it before because of the boob window, knowing what men already draw their eyes to when they see her, but, well... That'll work to her advantage this time around. A little jewelry and hair styling later, and even she's surprised by how different she looks in the mirror.
...Not bad, really. Maybe when they aren't trying to overthrow a corrupt capitalistic system, she'll wear it for Barret sometime. Unlike the guys she'll be seeing, he actually deserves the eye candy.
With her fingers hooked into some high heels, she carefully makes her way down the stairs with minimal creaking and peers into the back room. Tifa's expression softens as she sees Barret right where she left him, sprawled out on the bed and taking up most of the space, still deep asleep.
"I'll be back before you know it," she whispers.
Barret doesn't stir.
Best she can, she makes sure that everything in Seventh Heaven is secure. Whenever the rest of AVALANCHE comes back, they'll know where to find the keys and get inside, although hopefully Barret is awake by then. She stays barefoot as she goes down the front steps and only slides her feet into her high heels once she's on the street. Just once while she's heading off does she look back towards 7th Heaven, but she doesn't stop. The mantra has started in her head again.
Keep moving.
It's all she can do.
Some thoughts become other than thoughts, so long as you repeat them long enough. They become the fuel that sparks your veins, the pumps which make your blood floor. A mantra. Against all odds, no matter how broken your body is, some thoughts can force you to defy reality. Certain aspects of it, at least.
Keep moving.
Sweat has latched onto Tifa's long hair, keeping it captive and sticky along her neck or her arms whenever she ducks beneath gunfire. In the flickers of light her and Barrett pass through, she can see a black dark as tar smeared along her arms. Actual tar, oil from pipes, sooth from the explosion... Who knows. Speaking of not knowing, she has no idea what the rest of her looks like, but she imagine it can't be good. Her knuckles ache, down to the bone, and the feeling of faint stickiness tells her of a wound long before she starts seeing the stain spread through leather. It's not just her knuckles. Her whole body aches. Her heart aches. She can still smell fire and weakening metal.
Keep moving.
It's a long way back to Sector 7 and its familiar smells of garbage, poverty, and alcohol. Whenever they find a place to catch their breath- a situation that gets more common the farther from the Sector 5 Reactor they get- Tifa looks at Barret. Well, she smells him first, honestly. It's not the tang of sweat or the bitter curl of gunpowder that she notices; Tifa is used to that. By now, it's just as much a part of her with how much she's ducked against him when "pray and spray" was a better tactic than punching a soldier through a brick wall.
What she smells is sour desperation and burnt flesh.
There's no medicine or materia for desperation. Tifa can't fix that. Yet she has to do something, because sitting curled up against a wall just makes her replay the scene of a few hours ago over and over again: her hand desperately outstretched, wind tugging at Cloud's blond strands, and weary acceptance in those too bright eyes. Had that been confidence or surrender?
She shakes her head and pushes herself up on weary legs, drawing his attention. She can't fix desperation, but there's a Restore materia lodged firmly in one of her gloves. Burned skin she can do something about. "Give me your hand," she says, voice a whisper but firm as steel.
"Wh- Tifa, ain't any time for that, I'm fine-"
"Barret. Give me your hand right now." Somewhere in the middle of that, her voice breaks- something that she feels before she hears it for herself. She swallows, barely enough spit to wet her throat, and stands firm. Whether it's the flicker of weakness or her clear stubbornness, Barret's shoulders slump after a second.
"It really ain't bad," he protests, apparently more out of obligation than conviction as he removes his hand from the barrel of his gun and holds it out to her.
A whole life of tireless work and stubborn passion shows in his hand. She's the brawler, the hand-to-hand fighter. Yet her hands aren't even half as callused as Barret's one, and about as big too. Could fit all around her waist, probably. Right now, however, there's more tender flesh that's been pressed to the hot metal of a gun than calluses. The materia in her gloves glimmers, and she watches as skin knits itself back together. She lets her fingers roam over the length of his fingers as it works, hair heavy against her back. "You know," she says quietly, "Marlene is going to worry if you pick her up and your hand is all ruined."
"Think you raise a fuss more than Marlene."
A smile flickers across her lips. "That's because Marlene doesn't know she can raise a fuss."
"Hey, don't go teachin' her bad habits." Tifa's smile strengthens, just for a moment, but it's startled right off her face when Barret's hand suddenly wraps around hers. "...Hey." She raises her head to look at him and takes in his furrowed brow, the trouble in those dark eyes. Barret struggles for words for a moment before forcing them out. "It wasn't your fault."
She knows what he's talking about in a heartbeat, and glances away with her shoulders rising up stiffly. "I left-"
"You didn't leave shit," Barret interrupts her gruffly, and the force of his words has her look up into his eyes again. They're both so close, Tifa can't tell if it's the heat from his gun or his body keeping her warm in the cold. "If anybody, I was the one who left 'im."
"Barret..."
His jaw stiffens. "But it was 'cuz I couldn't leave you behind. I ain't gonna lose anyone, not if I can help it." He lets out a breath. "...And anyways, I haven't paid that twiggy jackass yet. Just watch, he'll drag himself outta the grave to get his money, the cheapo."
A laugh tumbles out of her before she can stop it, and she has to raise a hand to cover her mouth. There's not so much danger now, since the two of them are roughly back in Sector 7, but caution has her try anyway. Barret gives a rough little grin and lets go of her hand, only to tug her close to his side. Combined, they both smell filthy but Tifa doesn't care. She just lets herself stay against him, basking in the heat as they make their way to the bar. They can get home first before thinking on anything else.
At least, those are her thoughts until Barret pauses around the corner of a precariously constructed building and whispers, "Who the hell is that?"
Tifa wiggles out from the muscles of his arm and side, peering around to see what he's talking about. By no means would she say she's the best bartender. However, Tifa could name and point out the faces of every single resident of Sector 7, plus the few regulars who straggle in from the others. The guy lurking around 7th Heaven? He's not anyone she recognizes.
"Someone suspicious," she mutters, watching as he tries to act nonchalant even as he's peering through some of the windows. The weight of Barret's arm leaves her shoulders, but she places his hand over it when he lays his hand on his gun. "I'll go around and corner him." She grins up to him. "And then you can play big bad terrorist." Barret grins right back.
After that, taking care of their uninvited guest is pure and simple. Some skillful maneuvering and liberal doses of gunfire later, and their sneak is eagerly spilling out his guts to both of them. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of useful information in those guts. In the end, all he can tell them is that Don Corneo sent him to find the hideout of AVALANCHE. For all that he's obvious small fry, Tifa still calls some favors from her neighbors in to make sure it takes him a nice long time before he can get back to either Sector Six or Don Corneo.
But that still leaves her and Barret. Alone in 7th Heaven.
On some level, she knows her body is exhausted from escaping an exploding reactor and staying on the run from Shinra goons for hours. Despite that fact, renewed energy is buzzing through her veins as she doubles down on the locks for the front doors and Barret slumps down in one of the chairs that are never really big enough for him. "What are we going to do?" she asks, biting back the urge to pace through the whole bar or kick down a wall with one strong kick.
Barret passes his hand over his eyes. "What we gonna do? Rest for the night, recover, regroup, wait for the heat to die down."
"I mean about Don Corneo."
"That guy?" Barret snorts, exhausted. "Just some perv. There's no need to worry about that kinda guy."
Unable to stop herself, Tifa lets her feet guide her in a harried pace through the bar. "He had someone scoping out where AVALANCHE could be, Barret! Maybe he's looking to sell us to Shinra so that his disgusting ventures over in Sector 5 can keep going! We can't just- let ourselves ignore it!"
"Tifa- " Wood groans and creaks under the weight of him as he rises up from his chair.
"If we don't do anything-" His fingers wrap around one muscled arm like she's made of sticks, of nothing. "If we just sit and let nothing happen-"
"Tifa!" He pulls her close, getting her to face him. "Calm down-"
She doesn't think. Her whole being is alight with frantic energy, and she just can't think. Barret is there, has always been there, and he's so close. Something about that fact erases all thought, and, before she knows what she's doing, Tifa reaches up with her free arm. Her fingers curl around the back of his neck, thick and slick with sweat, and she tugs him down with all the strength in her until their lips are crushed together.
Everything about Barret feels steady. She presses herself against him and the expanse of his chest is a brick wall that will never crumble. A shudder of pleasure goes down her back as she presses her breasts against him. Before she can get lost in the sensation, she's being pulled back. "Tifa!"
She can't look him in the eyes. Tifa squeezes her own shut, and pushes her words out from a tight throat. "I watched him fall and couldn't- didn't do anything about it. I need to do something. So, Barret- please." She has to keep moving, or else she'll fall apart.
For a moment, there's no answer. Anxiety buzzes in her gut, ready to burst aflame at the slightest provocation, but then a sigh flows across her face. "Yeah," comes Barret's low rumble. "Yeah." She doesn't know what it means, not exactly, but there's no time to figure it out before Barret lets go of her arm and cups her cheek. Tifa's eyes flutter open, and she looks upon the awkwardly soft expression that has taken up residences on Barret's gruff face. In contrast to her own actions, when he leans in to kiss her, it's soft and sweet. With nothing holding her back anymore, Tifa wraps her other arm around his neck and presses her full weight against him. Amidst all the empty tables and utter silence, it feels as though the two of them are the only two people who matter in the entire world.
What starts soft doesn't stay that way for long. Tifa has no idea when the shift occurs, only that one moment he's kissing her like he's afraid she'll break and the next they're kissing like they fight- with a passion and roughness that can't be matched by anyone else. Her nails dig into the top of his spine, knuckles brushing against his shirt collar. Even though she knows she healed it, his palm still feels like it's burning from where his calluses smooth along her side. Lost in the sensation of his mouth and his heat, Tifa doesn't notice anything else until metal is bumping clumsily against her thigh and Barret pulls away with a slight curse.
"Dammit-"
"Barret-"
"I know it's not the kind of thing a lady wants to feel, I-"
An apology is on the tip of his tongue, she can feel it, but Tifa puts a stop to that by kissing him again, harder. "It's fine," she murmurs against his lips, grounding her feet against the floor again instead of standing on the tips. "You're fine. I don't want anyone else, alright? So just-" Smoothing her hands against his back, she guides him downwards until her legs are sprawling along the bar floor and Barret is on his knees over her.
"Your ass is gonna get so many splinters," he declares, but his lips are curved in a smile as he mouths kisses along the curve of her throat and his good hand tugs at her skirt.
"But now you won't have to worry about anything," she laughs, the airy sound twisting into a gasp as one rough finger brushes against the inside of her thigh. Barret's mouth is as hot as his gun, burning into every spot of her skin where he kisses her. The heat spreads through her, warming skin and exciting her blood, until a flame of pleasure is stirring in the pit of her. Beneath him, she squirm and draws her legs up until her knees are brushing against his sides. His fingers are a little clumsy as they touch her, dipping against her sex over her underwear, but there's something about his calluses that makes her shiver. "And I'll handle it, don't worry."
He doesn't say anything back. Maybe it's because he trusts her. Maybe it's because he's busy leaving a mark against the soft skin along her collar bone. Either way it doesn't matter, not in the moment. All that does is the burn in her legs as she heaves up to grind against him with fluttering gasps and low moans that echo back through his own chest. Cool air hitting her exposed crotch makes her jolt; it takes her a second to realize he's pulled her underwear to the side. The only things that have ever touched her there have never been rougher than her own hands. That's nothing compared to the way Barret touches her, gruff fingers making her ache. When his fingers pull away, she surprises herself with the choked whine that comes from her own throat.
What starts off as embarrassment shifts into playful indignation at the snicker Barret breathes against her throat. Banging her fist against the back of his shoulder, she says, "If you don't touch me-" The rest of her words get lost in a hitch of breath as she feels something hot and thick brush against her thigh.
"Ease up," is mouthed into her shoulder, and Tifa tries her best even though every bit of her body wants to freeze up and close in on itself. Barret feels twice as large as any fingers she's dared to slide into herself. All the muscles of her body protest at the stretch but, just like any other, there's a thread of pleasure that winds straight through her. It pulses through that coil of heat and makes her shake. When Barret groans, she feels more than hears it. When he stops pushing into her, only halfway there, she has to catch her breath again and ease her nails out from his back. "Alright?" Barret forces out, voice tight.
Tifa's only answer is to kiss him, passionate and ravenous, until they're both breathless when they pull away. One thrust, slow but deep, makes Tifa arch up against him with her body half off the floor as she draws her legs around him. Another, shallow, quicker, grinding up inside of her and making her writhe. Again and again and again, faster with each thrust, until the force of his body against hers makes the wood floor groan almost as loud as they are.
Soon enough, however, even the creaks of the wood start to fade out and become nothing but white noise. There's only overwhelming pleasure that wipes away everything else. No suffocating anxiety. No excess energy that makes her tremble. All there is, all that she needs, is the feel of Barret's muscles bearing down on her and pinning her against the floor no matter how much she writhes. Every push and pull in her sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body. There's a sole bit of her mind trying to keep its head above the waves of bliss, trying to point out she should do something back... Barret thrusts deep into her and stars erupt behind her eyelids. Her fingers scramble against the rolling muscles of his back as she rides it out, voiceless and gasping, and she can't stop the ecstasy. She can't stop because he's not stopping, still thrusting into her with steady grunts, and one orgasm rolls seamlessly into the next. Tifa doesn't even know what noises she's making, only that her throat feels raw as she slumps against the ground. Slowly, the lights in her eyes are exchanged for being blinded by the lights up in the ceiling. It takes her a moment to realize that Barret is slumped against her, his breath hot against the side of her neck. Something has filled her all up.
For a few minutes, they simply lay there as the afterglow stays wrapped tight around them. Soon, however... Well. They're on a bar floor. It's not the most comfortable place to be, exactly. Barret starts to push himself off of her with a grunt, and she grimaces as reality comes back to her in the reminder that she was sore to begin with. She swears the whole bar practically shakes as Barret thumps down besides her, sitting up and partially pantsless. There's practically a whistle in the way he exhales. "Sorry," he says, gruff in that way where he's obviously embarrassed and floundering with the emotion. "Shoulda asked before I.... you know."
His 'you know' is still deep inside her, and Tifa delicately rearranges her panties so that they're not digging in awkwardly. "It's fine," she says, suddenly embarrassed now that the deed is done. "I mean... I don't think I would have heard you anyway." She grins, sheepish.
Snorting, Barret shakes his head fondly. "You know, I wanna say 'hey I'm just that damn good', but I ain't gonna lie. For a minute there, I was sure I was gonna come out of that deaf as hell. You were so loud-" Before Tifa can protest, red faced, Barret suddenly goes silent. For a moment, she doesn't comprehend the way his brows furrow and his jaw hang slightly open.... But then it hits her.
Tifa goes pale. "Marlene!" she gasps in time with Barret, and they both scramble over to the pinball machine. Even as she's panicking, however, she has to slam her hands up against her mouth to muffle her strangled laughter. "Barret, your pants-!"
Barret completely ignores her. He's focused purely on banging the pinball machine and shoving his head down the hole the second the elevator has moved far down enough. After she's swallowed down her adrenaline fueled giggles, Tifa crawls besides him and does the same with her hair flopping down to sway and hang. What she spots draws a wobbly smile to her lips: Marlene sprawled out on a pile of pillows in the corner, slackjawed and deep breathed in sleep. Apparently, not even the grind and rumble of the elevator can wake her up. Despite that, her and Barret still try to will it to be quieter when they closer it back up. As the locking mechanisms slide into place, Barret pushes himself up to his feet and wobbles to over one of the stools at the bar. He sprawls into it, back pressing into the counter and arms spread out against it. His sigh is hilariously loud. "Ho-ly shit. I thought I'd just scarred a four year old for life."
"I think you would have scarred her more because of the fact that you still haven't pulled up your pants," Tifa laughs, dusting off her knees. A giddiness is bubbling in her chest, like the foam threatening to poor over a glass. She thought she'd used up her adrenaline fighting off Shinra goons, but here it is again, in full force. She could run a marathon around the whole of Sector 7. Instead, she reaches under her skirt and slides her underwear down until she can kick it off to some corner. A definite bounce is in her step as she goes over to Barret and he grunts as she swings her leg over him to straddle his lap. This feels even better than when he's over her, she thinks while she settles her hands along his broad shoulders. It's satisfying, feeling this miniature giant beneath her, all muscles and stability. "Not going to pull them up any time soon?"
A thrill snaps up her spine as his hand settles along her hips again. "Doors locked, I don't see a reason why I gotta. Don't tell me you still got energy. Damn, I must be getting rusty."
"I don't mind." She kisses him again- it's becoming one of her favorite things, the slide of his lips and the brush of his stubble. "I'll help you polish up."
It's selfish, she knows it is, but she can't help herself. Doing this is easier than getting lost in regrets and memories. Relief washes over her as Barret kisses her back, and she slides a hand down to his chest. It's up to her to work him back up, so she pulls all the tricks she can think of. Her hand kneads into his chest, drawing out low rumbling sounds that shake into her and pressing out a nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt. She has to stop when he helps pull down her suspenders, arms slipping beneath them, but then she's right back at it.
All the heat that had enveloped them when they were fucking on the floor like animals is coming back in a rush. Barret is as hot as his gun beneath her, to the point that it's getting her worked up only groping at his chest. Then again, maybe it's the work of his hand. He only has the one, but it can cup the entire curve of her ass. He pulls her so close, and Tifa groans into their kiss, breathless already. Her chest is squeezed against his, and rubbing against him starts a pounding ache between her legs. Wantonly, she reaches down between them. Now that she's not so lost in the throes of arousal, it really hits her how thick he is. Only half hard, and she can barely wrap her fingers around him to stroke him back to fullness.
Whether it's the press of her breasts on him, the way she massages and digs her fingers into his chest, her kiss, her handjob- soon enough she feels it not only hard and throbbing in her hand but brushing back up against her thighs. She has to force herself off of his mouth, breathing hard. Faintly, she thinks her lips must be bruised from the force of it all, but she doesn't care. She's too busy squeezing her legs around Barret's thighs as she adjusts her position. It's a hell of a precarious place to be; she's kind of regretting this particular impulse decision actually. Yet with Barret's hand on her back, she manages just fine. Using her hand to guide his cock, Tifa takes a deep breath. Her heart is pounding in her throat feeling the tip of it teasing her entrance. It's one thing for Barret to do it, but it's something else entirely for it to be literally in her own hands.
From the corner of her eyes, she can see him open his mouth. Tifa has a feeling she knows exactly what he wants to say. Before he can do it, she bites the bullet and sinks her hips down. She means to do it quick and smooth, exactly like him, but oh. Her head rolls back as he stretches her out, and her lips tremble as they fall open. They groan in symphony as she sinks down onto his cock. Every inch, she thinks she can't take anymore, that she's as full as she could possibly be, but her body proves her wrong every time. It's an eternity of pleasure until she feels her thighs settle on his. Gasping for air, eyelashes fluttering, she realizes she's taken him all in. It's knowledge that makes her tighten up in excitement, and Barret's fingers dig into her skin as he hisses.
"Too much?" she gasps, trying for 'tease' and coming off as 'lascivious'. Barret's only answer is to smack his hand against her butt, and Tifa jolts forward with a strangled incomprehensible noise that tumbles from her lips.
The electricity that bursts through her, winding around her spine and wiping everything in her head clean, makes her quiver on his lap. It's all she needs to move into action. Her thighs burn as she raises her hips and plunges them down again, and her moan echoes throughout the bar. Spreading her fingers along Barret's chest, she works on moving faster and faster. Past everything, she thinks she can hear the slick wet sound of him pushing into her and flesh slapping into each other. For whatever reason, that stirs her up even more, and Tifa lets her head fall back. There's nothing outside her body and the thrust of his cock dragging out pure bliss. That's why it's such a shock when she feels a rough hand grasp her breast. Pure white shoots through her mind, her vision, like a shooting star, and it takes her a second to come back to the real world right as her keening whine is tapering off. Barret's hand kneads at her chest, making her body squeeze down on him, and Tifa rocks her hips thoughtlessly to encourage a thumb sweeping over one perked nipple. "O-Oh," she gasps, arching her back and pressing into his touch. "Do that again-"
His laugh rumbles into her, from both between her legs and her hands at his chest. It lightens her up even as it drags her down into a sea of pleasure. The buzz of ecstasy fills her mind and keeps her pleasantly distracted, unable to do much when he slips his hand beneath her shirt. His thumb makes its way underneath the front of her bra, tugging, and she sighs as her breasts pop out unrestrained. Cool air makes her burning body sink against him again. It's not a feeling that lasts long. Leaving her bra and shirt together resting atop her chest, he cups her again. It's not just a repeat of his fingers digging into her skin, however. Gripping one breast, he leans forward and latches his mouth against her chest. The way he sucks causes Tifa to jolt, and her eyes flutter shut.
She'd never thought about her breasts being used this way, not really, but Barret's mouth feels so good where it is with his stubble scraping against her. That's not all of it, only a small part. His sucking is going to leave a mark, but she doesn't stop him. In fact, encouragingly, she grinds down on him with a roll of her hips. Her reward is not a suck to skin, but his lips right at her nipple. Tifa can't even describe the noises she's making anymore, only that they're loud and drowning out the wet sounds of her body sucking him in at the same time that he's sucking on her. Her nipple is so erect it nearly hurts as Barret rolls it along his tongue. All the pleasure, fortunately, more than makes up for it.
Maybe it's the attention to her chest, or maybe it's because her body is still so sensitive from before, but all too soon, Tifa feels herself tumbling over the edge again with pleasure scorching her mind clear of thought. Barret doesn't stop beneath her, the throbbing from his dick nearly as bad as the grind of it into her body, and she's left a shaking mess making noise on top of him. It almost hurts, the pleasure her body demands, and her fingers scramble at his chest. "Barret-" His lips release her nipple with a pop, and Tifa shakes again as cold air makes it stiffen more.
"Had enough?" His breath makes the words gust hotly against her skin. Without thinking, she squeezes down on him and sighs at the way his moan reverberates throughout her. Still, the challenge pulls her back to earth. Even overcome with the rapturous feelings of sex, she tries to smirk wobbly down at him.
"I can handle whatever you give me."
She sees the spark in his eyes, the glimmer of challenge accepted, before she realizes that he's pressing his hand around her ass at the same time he's pushing up to his feet. Hastily, she latches her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist just to keep her balance. She's not expecting the way the new angle twists her insides or the pleasure that jolts through her. It'd be so easy for her to squeeze her body against his, ride him this way. She even almost does it. Before she can, however, she finds herself being sprawled along the surface of a table. Blinking back into awareness with a flushed face, she looks up at Barret. "What-"
"Let's see how you deal with this," he grunts, bracing himself against the table with his gun arm. His hand squeezes her ass as he keeps her right where she is, her hips raised up and legs still around his waist. There's no way for her to prepare herself for the way he pulls his hips back and then slams into her, rocking the table with the force of his thrust. Tifa's cry not only hits the ceiling, it breaks through it. Her fingers dig into her own wrists, a self made lock to force him to stay where he is as he pulls nearly back out again. The head of his dick teases at her opening where she clenches to unconsciously keep him inside of her, and then he pounds into her again. It's worse- better- than how he'd done her against the floor. There'd been a little care, that first time, tentative and uncertain of things as they were. There's none of that now. He doesn't stop or go slow even once, and the rhythm of the table legs banging against the floor is perfectly in harmony with the way his body slaps against hers.
Yet it's not enough. For all that she's besides herself, she wants more. With her arms still wrapped around his neck, she jerks his head up away from her chest to greedily latch her lips against his. Saliva drips past her lips at their messy kiss, mouths sliding against one another because he won't stop beating his cock into her. Tifa doesn't care. All she can think about is the way their tongues entangle, slick and hot. Moaning, kissing, breaking away to scream in ecstasy at the empty bar- there's not a second for her to get air. Barret moves his mouth down against the curve of her neck and Tifa rolls her head back, giddy and dizzy. Words that don't feel like her own start to spill out of her mouth.
"Barret- aaah!" Her thighs squeeze tighter around his sides. "Ah, ah, oh-!" He pulls out, and she thrusts her hips upwards to meet the way he shoves into her again. "AH! Please- don't stop!" A part of her wants to yell for him to go faster, harder, but, even as she thinks it, she can feel the table's legs lift up off of the floor and slam down against it again. She bounces against both it and his cock driving into her, crying out. Her legs spasm against him, squeezing tighter. "Barret!"
He sucks hard against the soft skin by her collarbone. Creaking wood, banging table legs, and the slick slapping of his cock and balls against her ass make such a ruckus, she doubts she could hear a Shinra army storming the bar. So it takes her a moment, past all her own groans and gasps, to realize that Barret is huffing out words into her chest. It takes her even longer to make them out. "Nngh, yeah, fuck, keep goin', gonna make you scream so loud, gonna fill you the fuck up 'til you're drippin' with my cum-"
The idea alone melts Tifa, her insides squirming and squeezing around his cock as she moans lustfully. "Do it!" she begs him, and screams when his next thrust reaches deeper than she ever thought possible, the deepest he's gone by far. O-Oh. He'd liked that. Tifa anchors her nails into his back and keeps talking, her words coming out in pants and moans. "Barret- fuck me hard- do it so that I don't think of anything else but yooooh!" His deep penetration slides her along the table, and she loses all ability to speak for a second. Lodged inside of her, his dick throbs and sends out waves of pleasure. "That! Nnngh, that, Barret, just like that, oh! Fill me up with your cum, please!" Her mouth could keep moving, fucked silly as she is, light headed as she is. Any filter control she has is on the fritz, letting all her desires and eagerness take the wheel instead.
Her wish comes true in only a few more thrusts. He slams deep into her, hard enough to knock her brains out, and a gush of wet heat pours into her. Barret's cum was already nestled inside of her body, sticky and clinging to every bit of her insides, from the first time he'd fucked her not twenty minutes ago, and more of it makes her feel so full and satisfied. Tifa arches her spine, keening as she welcomes more of his dick inside of her body. His cock stirs up her insides, churns his cum, and she can feel it dripping out of her already to drag down the curve of her ass. One, two, three more hard thrusts into her as she rides out her own orgasm, and then her back thumps against the table. Barret's own body soon follows, slumping half on top of her as they lay there limply with heavy breaths. They only lay there for a moment before Tifa pushes at Barret's shoulder. "Bedroom," she murmurs, voice still laden with desire. Her body isn't her own anymore, at least it doesn't feel like it. All she can feel is how good it feels to have his cock stretching out her insides and the cum squeezed in every available space. When Barret pulls out and she gets up onto unsteady feet, she can already feel everything start to drip out of her gaping hole and leaving sticky trails down her thighs.
Upstairs, over the bar, are their rooms when they feel safe enough to actually sleep in them. Tifa doesn't think she can wait that long, however, not with the ache between her legs which would make traversing all those stairs impossible. Instead, she tries to guide the two of them to a back room of the bar. Nothing fancy, just a spare little thing they can lock drunkards into when they feel bad for them instead of dumping them onto the street.
The key words: tries.
They're not even halfway down the hall before their hands on on each other again. Barret squeezes her breast as she shoves him against the wall, nearly shaking the whole building. The bar could fall on top of them and Tifa doesn't think she'd care. All she cares about is grinding up against him. His dick is already hot and hard again, still sticky with his cum and her slick juices. It slides against her hips as she presses against him. The feel of it is addicting, but not as much as when they dive into an aggressive kiss again. Lips slipping against each other, tongues tangling, teeth scraping against soft flesh- it gets so intense that after a while Tifa can't tell where she stops and Barret begins. Roughly, he reverses their positions until she's sprawled up against the wall and she breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Barret- I need your cock, drive it into me-!"
Even as she says the words, she doesn't actually have any idea how they're going to do it. Her mind is too fucked fuzzy to consider anything but the end goal she craves. Barret has her covered however. He bends down, sucking marks all the way down from her throat to her breast, until he can wrap his fingers around her thigh. Swiftly and suddenly, he raises her leg up as high as it can go- and considering all the training she's done to her body, that's nearly straight up with her knee pressing into her chest. Tifa gasps and whimpers at the electricity that jolts out from how exposed she is, a feeling that twists her stomach into knots. Her palms press up against the wall, instinct that's been pushed into keeping her balanced, and just in time. Pressing up against her, his cock misses the entrance to her body and grinds up against it instead, and Tifa's eyes flutter to the back of her head for a brief second. As she recovers from the momentary bliss, Barret pulls back and tries again. Already filled with his cum and dripping wet, his dick slides in effortlessly, like her hole was always made for it. As he pushes in, he pushes the cum in her out, and Tifa can't describe the noises that fall from her slack jaw as she feels it drip over her folds. There's no time to take in the thick sound of it plopping against the wooden floor. With a grunt, Barret begins to grind into her, and Tifa forgets all about everything but him.
Unlike the other two times they fucked, this time it's not immediately brutal and viciously fast. Instead, his pace is slow and deep. Every thrust is him nearly pulling out and, when he shoves his hips forward again, it's with a hard grind that has his dick set fire to her insides. Her body twists for stability, pressed up against the wall, and she curls one hand into a fist. Keening, she reaches back to try and grab him again. "Barret- fuck me faster, please-"
His breath is hot, steaming, as it puffs against her ear and the curve of her neck. "You want my cock, you got my cock, don't you?" His dick grinds int as far as it can go again, and the one leg she has keeping her steady trembles.
"More-"
"More what?" He grunts, and this time goes just a little faster. Tifa's free hand finds his shirt and fists into it.
"Faster!" She swallows roughgly, tugging at him. "Harder! I want-" The words aren't even formed in her mouth when Barret pulls back and slams into her again just like all the times before. Tifa's words fragment into a wanton scream that rattles the bare to its core. All she can do is cling to the wall as he resumes a punishing pace, balls slapping against her ass and thigh.
In no time at all, he's reduced her to a quivering orgasmic mess as her release ricochets through every single inch of her body. The world is washed out, scorching and rapturously carnal, and Tifa thinks she's been fucked right into an out-of-body experience. Everything feels so far away when she starts to come back to herself, barely aware of how Barret lets go of her leg or the way she starts to crumple against the wall. His arm loops around her waist completely, hauling her up against his sweaty warm body, and Tifa can't even get the thoughts together to hold onto him. She merely lets him carry her exhausted and lax body into the back room. For the first time in hours, she thinks she's finally starting to lose all the energy that's been rattling her very bones. The only part that isn't completely devoid of energy is the buzz of her sex drive.
Before she can relax too much, however, Barret shifts her in her grasp. He tosses her onto the bed almost carelessly, and Tifa yelps as her body hits the mattress bouncing. That's one way to snap out of it. Huffing out a breath, she pushes herself up on her elbows and smiles as she sees him starting to shed what little of his clothes he still has left on. "Now who has energy?" she mutters as his weight joining her on the bed makes it dip. Drawing up one leg, she reaches down and stretches herself out for him. "You fucked all of your cum out of me... Fill me up with it again, Barret."
He presses inbetween her spread legs, still erect cock rubbing up against her while his mouth descends on her chest again. Tifa tosses her head back, hair spread out against the cushions and a groan rolling out of her throat. She squirms beneath him with every suck of her chest, unable to handle it with her body still so sensitive. The good news is that Barret stops soon enough. The bad news is that he does so purely to adjust himself over her, hips rocking into hers until he's pushing into her again. So much fucking has left her sore and overly sensitive. Even just the single initial thrust has her arching her body up into his, breasts squishing against his muscular chest. Her legs draw up to wrap themselves around his waist as her arms do the same about his neck. "Barret!" she cries out again, digging her fingers into his back. "Again-" She can't even finish her request before his kiss is stealing the words and breath straight out of her throat. His cock and tongue plunge together into her almost as if in sync, ravaging her body in two of its holes. Best as she can, she kisses him back, their tongues tangling together messily and saliva dripping from their mouths and splattering against the top of her breasts.
When they finally break apart, Tifa has to gasp for air with bruised and slick lips. Barret doesn't even take a second. All he does is get right back into it, head bowed as he pistons his hips into her body. So much pleasure pulses through her that Tifa isn't even sure she can think straight. All she can do is go along with the flow of her body and the bliss that shakes her. Bodily instinct carries her through, clinging to Barret while the bed slams into the wall again and again. Her screaming moans, the banging, all of that ensures that their meager neighbors will know what's happened tonight. It doesn't matter. Tifa just squeezes down on his cock harder, encouraging his ruthless pace, and melts as his body presses down against hers. They're squeezed so close together that his flesh is able to grind against her clit when he digs into her with his dick. It's a new and different kind of feeling compared to the fucking they've been doing before. Instead of a constant roll of pleasure, it's like being shot with jolts of lightning but instead of pain she's thrusting herself up for more of it.
Everything leaves her dizzy with feeling. Faintly, she knows there's the distant sickening smell of alcohol, but all she can focus on is the smell of gundpowder and Barret's sweat, of sex, as he fucks her. Her insides have taken on the shape of his cock, it feels like, and Tifa shivers with a moan at the very thought. "Barret-" She trails off of his name with a scream as he slams as deep as he can into her. "BARRET! Do it, harder, fill me up, do it-"
"Tifa-"
"I love you, please-!"
Barret slams into her for one last time and stars erupt behind Tifa's eyes as the orgasm rocks her utterly and completely. She screams out his name right as he screams out hers, and the two of them cling tightly to one another as they come in unison. His hot cum washing through her seems to go through her whole body, carried by her orgasm. As the feeling ebbs away, all Tifa can do is lay there with Barret on top of her and the two of them panting together. Nothing feels real in that moment as they stay there on the bed, bodies pressed together with him still inside of her. Distant city lights filter in through the closed shades, sharp neon and orange cutting across the bed and their entwined bodies in thin lines. Tifa isn't sure how much time passes as the sweat cools along their bodies before Barret finally pushes himself up off of her with a grunt. Now that the adrenaline is finally starting to go away, she's starting to become more aware of her body. An ache, the unarousing kind, is more than apparent in her lower body, and she's starting to remember just how much crap she's covered in from their run away from the reactor.
For how gross she feels, that doesn't stop Barret in wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close to his side. "So, uh," he starts in that gruff way where he dials it up to 11 as if that can hide his awkwardness. (It has yet to ever succeed, in Tifa's experience.) "I love you too. If that wasn't just a, you know-"
Wiggling onto her side, she pats his chest. "It wasn't. I mean, a little bit, but..."
"Right, right."
Unable to help herself, Tifa giggles. "Are all post-sex talks this awkward?"
"If I'm bein' straight with ya? Hell naw. I'm usually out like a light right after." He doesn't outright say that he was worried about her, but Tifa can tell anyway. It makes her smile into his skin. For not the first time, she's glad she's become a part of Avalanche. It's just that this time it's for entirely different reasons.
"Well, feel free to go out any second now." Barret's responding rumble of a laugh shakes through her, but it evens out soon enough into easy breathing. After a while, probably just a few minutes, his breath becomes much deeper and slower.
If only sleep would come as easily to Tifa. She's no longer vibrating with adrenaline or squirming with arousal, but that doesn't mean she's tired. Logically, she should be, but her mind just doesn't want to turn itself off. Instead, she lays there tucked against Barret's chest and watches as the lights from outside shift everytime the train passes through. Even at night, Sector 7 isn't a quiet place. Maybe in one of the nicer Sectors, that's how it is- people tucking in and the world going quiet. But down in the slums, people are always moving, always working, always trying to do something.
Maybe that explains something about her.
When it becomes clear to her that there's no way she's going to sleep anytime soon, Tifa delicately lifts up Barret's arm and slides out from under it. Her legs are still shaky when she gets up to her feet, but hey. She's been hit by harder and worse, right? Like giant SHINRA robots. Sure, those hits usually didn't go into her, ah... vagina, but still. By the time she's ducking out of the door, she's already twice as steady. Looking down the hall, Tifa's face starts to heat up. Oh. Right. She'd forgotten about all the semen.
At least it's something to do. In shorts and a loose t-shirt she grabs from her room upstairs, Tifa gets to work on cleaning everything up. The semen that had slipped out of her is scrubbed off of the floor. Her underwear is fetched off of the corner of the television set up behind the bar. (It went that far? Yikes.) She makes sure to double down on cleaning the bar seats and table they'd done the deed on. Let it never be said that she runs an unclean bar, even in the slums.
When she's well and done, Tifa flops onto one of the bar stools and looks around. No, no.... She's still not sated. Frowning, she sweeps a hand through her hair and sighs. Running from SHINRA, a long night of sex, cleaning up 7th Heaven... She should be done by now, right? So what is it? What's keeping her from taking a break?
...Who is she kidding. Tifa knows exactly why she's like this. It's the exact same image that she'd gone to Barret to forget: her fingers outstretched while Cloud plummeted down to earth. Even then, it's not exactly the image that's getting to her, but being motionless... Unable to move forward and grab him.
In the emptiness of the bar, her huff of laughter is louder than it should be. She just can't stop, can she? She's a train on the tracks, stuck moving forward. Getting up, she dusts herself off and tugs off her gloves. Stretching her hands out in front of her makes the wounds on her knuckles all the more obvious. Bruises and blood seem like they're a part of her hands now. Well, that won't do at all. She's going to have to play the part of a cute and inoffensive girl, and cute inoffensive girls don't look like they've taken on a whole bar and won.
After all, only cute and inoffensive girls get to see that sleazeball Don Corneo. Only a cute and inoffensive girl could get close enough to grab him by the balls and make sure he was very truthful in telling her just what the hell one of his goons was doing sniffing around for AVALANCHE.
Step one to being a cute and inoffensive girl is getting herself cleaned up, of course. It helps that taking a nice hot shower makes Tifa melt from relief, so much that she almost forgets to scrub away all the dirt and grime. Finishing up with clean up is Materia, a girl's best friend in getting rid of bruises and scrapes. By the time she's done, there's nothing to hint that she can bench press a car. Final touches require a good outfit. Going through her closet, Tifa is so thankful for the female friends she's made while working the bar who show their appreciation when she delivers their drunk boyfriends home. Over the years, they've shown their appreciation in all sorts of ways: makeup that can't normally be found down in Sector 7, pleasant perfumes, and, most important of all, a sleek blue minidress. She'd never cared for it before because of the boob window, knowing what men already draw their eyes to when they see her, but, well... That'll work to her advantage this time around. A little jewelry and hair styling later, and even she's surprised by how different she looks in the mirror.
...Not bad, really. Maybe when they aren't trying to overthrow a corrupt capitalistic system, she'll wear it for Barret sometime. Unlike the guys she'll be seeing, he actually deserves the eye candy.
With her fingers hooked into some high heels, she carefully makes her way down the stairs with minimal creaking and peers into the back room. Tifa's expression softens as she sees Barret right where she left him, sprawled out on the bed and taking up most of the space, still deep asleep.
"I'll be back before you know it," she whispers.
Barret doesn't stir.
Best she can, she makes sure that everything in Seventh Heaven is secure. Whenever the rest of AVALANCHE comes back, they'll know where to find the keys and get inside, although hopefully Barret is awake by then. She stays barefoot as she goes down the front steps and only slides her feet into her high heels once she's on the street. Just once while she's heading off does she look back towards 7th Heaven, but she doesn't stop. The mantra has started in her head again.
Keep moving.
It's all she can do.