Tifa moves against Aerith, shimmering with sweat and glitter, eyes sliding closed as she loses herself in the slow rhythm. Aerith is deceptively still by comparison, giving Tifa something steady to grind herself against, only her quickening breaths and the focus in her green eyes betraying her desire.

Cloud is braced above them both, hands and knees, somehow sure that if he moves an inch the sky will come crashing down.