Learning to Live

Vincent:

Vincent normally drove with one hand resting on the gear shift between the seats, thus providing ample opportunity for Tifa to take his hand. He didn’t deny her, but he couldn’t help but be surprised as she peeled the glove from his hand. A hint of amusement creased his lips as he watched her fiddle around with the leather sheathing before he gave a small sigh, letting her fingers relace with his.



Well capable of driving with one hand, even if it was the left, Vincent did just that, content to pass the drive time in slightly awkward but companionable silence. Despite his best intentions, he was damnably aware of the fact that, despite whatever coverings she wore, he knew what lay beneath that exterior. A warm lovely woman, filled with passion and desire, waiting, yearning, needing to be satiated.



Shiva.



A growled snarl rippled his lips as his fingers involuntary clenched her hand, but lessened the pressure immediately thereafter. Quickly switching his brain back to the present, instead of last Friday night, Vincent blinked and nodded as he turned the corner, preparing to pull into the parlor’s parking lot.



“If you wish,” he said cordially, parking the sedan and turning off the engine. Resting both hands on the bottom of the steering wheel, he glanced at Tifa then back through the windshield. “I hope this birthday has been a pleasant one, Tifa,” Vincent said quietly.



Tifa:
Tifa nodded to his question, a true smile on her lips. "It's been great. I didn't expect everyone to get together like they did... makes me feel silly for ever feeling sorry for myself," she admitted.



Except for that morning, everything had gone better than she could have hoped. Well, maybe not Cid's last comments, but that would be forgotten soon.



She removed his glove and laid it on his thigh, then folded her hands in her lap. "I think you were right... about Cloud." She sighed and couldn't quite meet his eyes. "I think he just wants to be friends." She looked at the charm bracelet and chuckled. "Best friends, forever," she corrected, then finally looked at him with a smile that was forced.



"But maybe that's for the best." Still couldn't quite keep it from her eyes, the sadness. Then she shook her head and laughed softly at herself. "Besides, my friends are there for me. That's all that really matters, ya know?"



Vincent:

Vincent didn’t have to see the forlornness in her eyes; he could hear it in her voice. He knew it well. No strangers here, Tifa. Red eyes lowered as disheveled black hair fell over his forehead to hide his profile and he answered, “Perhaps that’s all he can offer you right now, Tifa.”



A pause, then, “The past years have changed us. All of us. In many different ways. We’re not the people we were when we began that journey.” One shoulder gently shrugged. “Have you told Cloud how you feel?” he inquired with a glance in her direction. “Seriously sat down and discussed your feelings?”



Now he did look at her. “Cloud has been through much, Tifa. Much more than you or even I can understand. Perhaps he’s afraid to take that step, afraid to lose it again. If you tell him, it might alleviate some of his fear.” And are you talking about just Cloud, gunslinger?



Tifa:
A heavy sigh, then, "I tried, a few times. Nothing seems to come out right. We just end up being in awkward silence and...and I just think that if he really wanted me like that, he'd say something, you know? Like this morning..." It all came pouring out.



"This morning, he took me out on Fenrir, way out into the countryside to this beautiful field. He had a picnic breakfast of all my favorite things, and we sat on a blanket and talked and then, he looked right into my eyes... and did nothing."



Her shoulders sagged. "It was the sweetest thing he's ever done for me, and if he'd have kissed me then, I'd have just melted. But he didn't... just said we should head back. I don't get it, Vincent! When a man wants something with all his heart, doesn't he just take it when it's right there, waiting for him? Why the hell should I always be the one throwing myself at him? And believe me, I have, in some ways."



Not nearly like last week, but...



"I've left the bathroom door unlocked when I was showering. Where did that get me? A very awkward lunch and profuse apologies from him, that's where. I got all dolled up for when he took me to see a play I wanted to see really badly. That got me a 'you look nice, Tifa,' and a kiss on the cheek. I can go on and on, but there's no point. Vincent, if you wanted a woman bad enough now, wouldn't you just tell her?"



The irony of the question didn't strike her until after she'd spoken it, and she winced and turned her gaze to the floorboard again. "I... I'm sorry. That came out all wrong."



Vincent:

Vincent remained silent long after Tifa had quit speaking, staring at his hands on the steering wheel. Unbidden and unwanted, memories flooded back, memories of all those years ago, complete with pain, misery and anger. But, they availed him nothing. With a heavy resigned sigh, Vincent shoved them far back into the recesses of his mind, closing and locking the door. He honestly didn’t know what to say; he had enough trouble with decent conversation to offer anyone advice on relationships.



But he did manage to say, “Then move on, Tifa. Sooner or later, you’ll have to. Unless you want to stay there, wanting something that isn’t there.”



On those cryptic words, Vincent opened the car door and got out, pulling on his glove as he did so. He stood beside the car to await her, but didn’t look her way as he did so. He was having a hard enough time just keeping his good sense from driving back to the bar and beating Cloud Strife into unconscious for being such a damned fool. But Vincent knew it wasn’t Cloud’s fault.



It was credit to the swordsman he was stable at all, after what he’d been through. He’d focused and managed to complete their mission and emerge from the rubble a walking, talking, coherent man. He’d forever see Tifa as his best friend. Not because he didn’t love her, but perhaps because he couldn’t love anyone the way Tifa needed to be loved.



Vincent gave a small head shake. More fool thee, Cloud, he thought silently. Sparing a small glance for Tifa as she rounded the car, Vincent’s brain considered the wild idea of grabbing her and giving her the birthday kiss she’d wanted, but he refrained, although his fingers twitched before he could stop them.



Clamping down on raging emotions, damn her that she caused them, Vincent merely followed her inside, inhaling the delicious scents of tomato sauce and baking dough.



Tifa:
As they entered the pizzeria, Tifa tried to quit mulling over Vincent's words and just concentrate on getting their order. She stepped up to the counter and inquired on whether or not it was ready.



The boy with the tomato sauce stained apron shook his head, "Gonna be another twenty minutes, Miss. One of the pizzas on your order was botched the first time around. You'll be getting that one free of charge."



Tifa smiled girlishly, not minding the delay. "Thanks, Brand. Can you add three orders of cheese-sticks? We forgot that over the phone..."



He nodded, "Sure, what kinda sauce?"



Tifa informed him that they would need two marinaras and one garlic, then she tugged the tall ex-Turk back outside. "I just can't stand to sit in there and smell all that wonderful food when I'm hungry..." she said, her stomach growling in confirmation.



She ignored the subject of conversation from moments ago as she plopped back into his car and fiddled with the stereo, hoping for something to pop into her head with which to break the silence. Naturally, the first thing to volunteer was a bit on the devilish side.



"We should play poker again soon..." Tifa couldn't help the impish smile that appeared on her lips as she studied the digital display.



Vincent:

Well used to delays in any system, Vincent let Tifa pull him back outside. Resigned to sitting once more behind the wheel and merely observing as she fiddled with the radio, Vincent remained quiet, trying to ignore how one rebellious lock of sable hair fell over a graceful shoulder, laying snug against the slender column of throat.



By the Planet, was he this desperate? A week ago, he wasn’t even aware he still possessed a libido and now, here he sat, all but squirming in the leather seat. But a dark eyebrow quirked to her comment.



“Mmm,” he rumbled, “perhaps. Although I wonder about your strategy and tactics. Some of them might be…confusing to lesser players.”




Tifa:
"Which is why we should play one-on-one," came the smooth reply without hesitation, though a flush crept up Tifa's neck as she failed to suppress her grin.



"You're the only challenge I've found in a long time, Vincent. It'd be a shame not to play some more..." She ran her fingers through her bangs, pushing them back as she leaned back in the seat, having found a station she liked. It played quietly in the background, but just enough for the sultry music and suggestive lyrics to be heard. Couldn't be helped; Tifa liked this song.




Vincent:

The other arched brow joined its compatriot. “Oh?” Vincent glanced over at her, a crooked half-smile on his lips. “Is that so? Hm, it’s nice to be appreciated, I suppose. Just as long as it’s challenging, of course.”



Long fingers laced over his abdomen as he shifted a bit lower in the seat, sprawling as comfortably as his long frame could. “For what stakes, pray tell?”




Tifa:
Tifa felt her heart flutter and something coiled low in her body as she observed him, so casually sexy. A dark sparkle of something naughty danced in warm brown eyes as she reclined the seat enough that she could stretch in it, arching her back with her arms above her head like so many nights ago.



"Oh, definitely not for peanuts. It's a lot more fun when you have something valuable to lose..." She trailed into the last part while giving him a furtive look from his thighs and all the way back to that unruly head of jet-black hair, "... or gain."




Vincent:

He was not this weak. Damnit. Oh, Vincent was well aware she was teasing him; the pheromones in the air were thick enough to walk on. Still, he fought a shiver as he felt those naughty eyes travel over his body; he observed her respectively through dark lidded vermillion.



But Vincent did have some backbone. He tilted his head in acquiescence, saying, “Hn, that’s quite true. Adds…tension…to the game. Makes it a bit more interesting, for all involved.” Shared sin sparkled in red eyes. “Wouldn’t you say, Tifa?” he asked on a low chuckle.



Tifa:
Damn him for being this coy. This was supposed to be the part where he suggested they do something taboo and she was supposed to play hard to get. Well, neither was playing their typical role very well.



Oh... fuck it.



Tifa glanced at the tiny bit of backseat in the car, then looked back to the seductive recluse sitting next to her, separated by the gearshift that only served to remind her it had been over a week since she'd had anything phallic.



"I would. But we've got no cards, and no table." She took a deep breath and could barely believe what she said next, "What we do have is a backseat, an alley next to the building, and fifteen or twenty minutes."



One fine brow arched in a direct challenge, daring him to either back down or pull into the alley.



Vincent:

Scarlet eyes blinked. What? Vincent’s ears burned at her brazen suggestions. And here he’d been figuring all this was just harmless play between the two of them and Tifa wanted more? Yet her suggestions burned across his vision and he swallowed a few times to regain his smoking sanity.



With a twist of his lips, Vincent keenly checked the rearview mirror, started the car and gunned the engine, all but squealing tires into the back alley. The entire process took him less than ninety seconds and he stopped the car, killed the engine, rammed the driver’s seat back and reached for her, all in one motion.



Vincent wasted little time in dragging Tifa across the shift column and into his lap, settling her knees firmly against his waist. The skirt that had been driving him quietly insane all bloody afternoon he blessed, as leather-covered fingers skimmed up her thighs to grip her hips. A muted grunt escaped him as he forcefully sought her mouth, kissing her sloppily, his tongue assaulting between her lips.



“Twenty minutes,” he panted, surging between her spread thighs. “Not nearly enough time…”



Tifa:
Tifa could have squealed in giddy anticipation while Vincent drove them to the ally and actually did make a bit of noise as he hauled her atop him. She moaned softly the instant she met the hard angle of his body and felt the bulge in his pants grinding against her. The want that had been building in her flared to a blinding need, and slender hands set about the task of quickly freeing said bulge from the constraints of his jeans.



The kiss he gave was returned with all the vigor of their last such encounter, stoked by the fires built by memory and the craving for more of the same. Her tongue dipped and explored, her teeth nipped and tugged, and finally she had him free, throbbing in her iron grip as she appreciatively stroked his shaft a few times.



While Vincent's hand pushed up her skirt, Tifa's free hand snatched the crotch of her panties to one side, rubbing the scorching tip of Vincent's sex against already wet lips. A throaty moan reverberated from her mouth to his as she at last slid down upon him, cinched tight from so little foreplay. "Oh, Vincent..."




Vincent:

Valentine shuddered to the ministrations of hot little hands yanking on his jeans. He would have helped, naturally, but he was busy stripping off his gloves and snaking eager fingers beneath her shirt, harshly fondling deliciously heavy breasts through their satin constraint.



But he fell immobile as he felt her sink down atop him, nearly hissing between clenched teeth as scalding tightness encased his throbbing girth so firmly. Burying his face against her neck, he bit her throat, growling, “Fuck, Tifa…” He returned hands to her hips, encouraging her to move atop him and groaning harshly as she did.



Pushing his hips against hers, burying himself within her, Vincent moaned her name beneath her ear, coupled with a throaty whisper of, “Gods, you’re so tight. Harder, Tifa,” he panted, leaning back to gaze up at her through dazed smoky eyes.



Biting at her collarbone, he slid his tongue up the column of her neck and into her mouth, muscle mimicking the thrust and penetration of their bodies below.




Tifa:
Ragged breath fell hot against Vincent's thick hair as she rode him, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase. Dear Planet, but he stretched her so well! She rose a fraction only to slam herself down onto him again and again. The steering wheel dug into her lower back now and then, her left foot nearly knocked the gear shift into reverse a couple of times, and her right foot was wedged between the seat and the door, yet Tifa was quite convinced that - with Vincent's shaft buried well inside her - she simply couldn't be brought to care.



His groaning encouragement earned him exactly what he'd asked for, and she ground her hips on his until the friction nearly burned. When his lips met hers again, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and suckled, so much like she had done to a much more sensitive part of him before. The kiss broke quickly with the need to gasp for air and Tifa felt the familiar surging waves of sensation tightening and releasing within strong inner muscles. Gods, what had this man done to her?



Her hands snatched his shirt loose and ran beneath the red silk to find the taut muscles that clenched each time he thrust up to meet her. Nails dug in, leaving red crescents while her thighs trembled against his hips. "Vincent... Oh fuck me... I need more," she begged, so close to that blissful zenith, yet needing that one, final push to send her spiraling.




Vincent:

They’d turned into violent primal animals, desperate with the urge to mate. That thought zinged straight through Vincent’s mind and out of his smoldering ears as Tifa continued to ride him like a woman possessed. Dimly he felt the car rocking beneath them, but like his panting lover, couldn’t be bothered to care.



Her lips closed over his tongue and suckled; Vincent felt his eyes cross behind tightly closed lids. Needing to gasp for air, he broke their wet kiss, head leaning back and moaning as her hands scored his now-bared chest even as she slammed hard atop his groin. Their close quarters didn’t allow for much maneuverability but by the Planet it was just enough to blow his mind.



The pain from her fingernails unhinged his brain and Vincent felt a guttural growl leave his throat and flashes of red obscure his vision as threads of gold shot through crimson irises. Chaos scratched and whined, but was ignored as its host concentrated all his attention on Tifa, gasping and bucking above him. Shiva, what a glorious sight.



Calloused hands ran down her back, arching her body to press her hips higher atop his and he gave a strained groan as he felt her constrict painfully around his swollen member. Slick wetness coated her thighs and his groin, but the messier, the better. Valentine snuck a hand between their bodies and panted heavily as he watched Tifa’s lovely face while his fingers deftly sought and fondled the tiny bundle of highly sensitive nerves as she jerked and spasmed atop him. He had to bring her to oblivion. To see her thrash and writhe in the grip of passion; such filled his male soul with pride like nothing known.



Guiding her hips hard with the other hand, he coaxed her with naughty whispers as he licked at her sweaty neck, “Come, Tifa. That’s my good girl. Come for me.”




Tifa:
His fingers worked their magic upon her so quickly; it was all she could do not to draw blood with her nails. Her body locked up, constricting so tightly around the welcomed invasion of his member that it almost hurt. The small pain, the heightened awareness of the girth that filled her and the killer's fingers that worked her sent her hurtling into the cresting waves of orgasm with a cry of his name.



Raw moans ripped from her as she rode him in jerking motions, raising up high enough that he almost slipped out before plummeting back down. Fingers raked over firm pectorals, scratching the tiny nubs of his nipples as she panted through clenched teeth, undulating in long, slow motions through the last of her climax.



"Do it, Vincent," she commanded in a low, rough voice. Hands slid up to fist in his hair, snatching the thick locks as if they were the chains to her personal slave. "Do it, ..." Her mouth went to his neck to lick and bite her way to his lips, where she nibbled the full softness of his bottom lip possessively, staring hard into those red-threaded-gold eyes.




Vincent:

How it thrilled him, to see this beautiful woman lost in the throes of her orgasm. Orgasm that he drove her to, so very easily. Vincent’s head lashed the seat rest as she writhed on his lap, strong muscles inside her body working around his rod-stiff flesh. He choked a scream as Tifa slammed back down on him, breath whistling from clenched teeth as she scratched at him. He felt his blood seething through heated veins; he couldn’t be still beneath her.



The pain she inflicted was delicious; Vincent would have never imagined himself a masochist, but the exquisite torture only served to heighten his pleasure. Gold-shot eyes flared open as Tifa jerked his hair, making him growl, lips rippling in a snarl as long-fingered hands gripped her hips harshly. Those demonic eyes rolled back and closed as the pressure in his loins and brain spilled over, hips bucking hard beneath her, straining with the intensity of orgasm as her firm command roiled along his brain. Chest heaving with labored breath, Vincent saw stars exploding as he shuddered into her, both arms wrapped around her body to hold her close against him as he spasmed on and on.



As he dimly felt coherency return, he inhaled long and deep, nostrils flared with the sweet scent of Tifa’s neck coupled with the pungent musk of sex. It made him grin, hidden against her throat. “Pizza should be ready by now, don’t you think?” he managed to rasp, shifting and giving a muted moan as he twitched, still inside her.




Tifa:
A whining moan against his shoulder, then Tifa sighed, "Mmm hmm." Her hands became gentle once more, massaging his scalp as she bestowed a few soft, languid kisses upon his reddened lips. Then, she carefully untangled herself from him, keeping one hand between her legs to hold in the mess they'd made, and all but fell back into the passenger's seat.



"Mmm, you might wanna pull close to the front door... and remind me to get extra napkins." The last part made her giggle a bit, though she flushed as she righted her underwear and let them catch the results of their dirty little deed. The last thing she wanted to do was get all that on his leather seats, and keeping her panties were not an option either. That would only make for an uncomfortable ride, she didn't doubt.



The only option left was what she went with, slipping the little bit of satin off and tossing them out the window and into the alley. There was still a bit to clean up between her thighs, but she'd at least be able to deal with that before they returned. With a pleased sigh, she reclined in her seat once more, stretching like a feline.



A lazy smile parted her lips, "This is a good birthday, Vincent..."




Vincent:

Vincent bit his lip as she wiggled back to her side of the car, carefully but quickly adjusting his own clothes. He did wait until she was semi-dressed before returning around to the front of the pizza shop. Putting the car in park, he leaned over and kissed her cheek languidly.



“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered at her ear before opening the driver’s door and saying, “I’ll go in. Just wait here.” He shook his head in amusement, realizing that he might as well purchase her several new sets of undergarments and keep them on hand, just in case.



Their little secret. Indeed.



The pizzas were indeed ready and Vincent paid for everything, balancing the boxes easily as he returned to the car. Setting the food in the backseat, he returned behind the wheel and began the drive back to the bar. Silent, as was his wont after anything climactic, he whirred things over and over in his mind, wondering why she made him a raving beast at times.



Tifa was certainly lovely, any idiot could see that, and her warm nature automatically endured her to people. Valentine just didn’t understand it. But Shiva knew his body understood it. He softly snorted in derision. Lust alone was not a good enough basis for any sort of relationship.



Red eyes blinked. Did they have one? Or was it just an unspoken primal need that lurked beneath their skins? Vincent knew he was far from ready for any sort of companionship…or was he? Was his insecurity all in his head?



Of course, gunslinger. You’re a coward, deep down. You feel no trepidation staring Death full in the face, but you’re terrified of the woman sitting over there. Admit it, was the smirking reply.



Another frown marred his countenance but by then they’d arrived back at the bar and Yuffie bounced outside as they pulled up. “About time!” she chirped, blinking in puzzlement as she spied the stony look on the gunman’s face.



“Sheesh, Vincent, what happened? The pizza boy flirt with you? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm or something.”



The frown gave way to exasperation and Vincent rolled his eyes, passing by the ninja with an armload of pizza boxes.



Yuffie turned to Tifa, one eyebrow lifted. “What’s eating him?” she asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the tall retreating figure.




Tifa:
"Oh," Tifa began with a smile she dearly hoped wasn't guilty. "You know Vincent. He doesn't like being teased…"



She toted the breadsticks and the cups of sauce on top, kicking the door shut behind her as Yuffie skipped ahead, nose pulling her toward the pizza. Her smile turned apologetic as Vincent set the pizzas atop the bar and she followed with the breadsticks.



"Sorry guys, they botched one of the pizzas and we had to wait while they made another. We got the extra one free, though."



Cid yanked one whole box his way and flipped open the lid. "Oh? I thought maybe Sunshine here was off being pissy," he said with a grin, digging in.



Coming to Vincent's defense well ahead of any retort the gunslinger might have, Tifa smiled sweetly. "Decidedly not, Cid. Your crudeness was hardly worth conversing over."



Blue eyes flicked at Vincent from beneath Cid's goggles. "Uh huh," he said, the rest following so quietly that only those directly next to him could hear. "I'm sure whatever you were 'conversing' about was just peachy…"



With flushed cheeks, Tifa quickly grabbed the cup she'd used earlier. "So who wants more punch?"