Chapter Text
“I was so happy to see you again…but maybe I shouldn’t have been.”
With those words, Tifa Lockhart turned her back to the blonde-haired soldier and disappeared through the doorway of her room at the Inn at Kalm. Not just her room, however; its other occupant, Aerith Gainsborough, sat at the end of the bed directly across the room, giving Tifa a sweet smile and a pensive look as their eyes met. Tifa didn’t have to say a single word for the empathetic Aerith to know that something was wrong, and her suspicions were only confirmed to be true when Tifa flopped down face-first onto her bed and half screamed, half groaned into her pillow.
“Wanna talk about it?” Aerith asked sweetly, her soft smile seeping into her voice in the same way it always did. Aerith had a feeling she already knew what was up, but she didn’t want to make assumptions before hearing it in Tifa’s own words. Aerith knew there was only one man in this world who could make Tifa this emotional.
“It’s Cloud,” Tifa said shakily as she sat up on the bed, her cheeks streaked with tears. “You’d think after all this time and everything we’ve been through he would be able to be honest with me, but it seems I expected too much of my childhood crush.” Tifa held back a sob.
Aerith stood up and crossed the room to sit on the bed next to Tifa, placing a hand on her back to console her, yet saying nothing.
“He won’t open up to me, he won’t tell me where he’s been all this time or what he’s been up to, and worst of all, the things he does say don’t make any sense at all. That whole story about what happened in Nibelheim, what happened with Sephiroth…he got it all right, yet I don’t remember him being there at all. So if he wasn’t there, how does he know about everything that happened? How does he know about the reactor, and the library under the mansion, and even Sephiroth almost killing me? It doesn’t make any sense, and I feel like I’m going crazy just trying to understand it all. And somehow, despite everything he claims to remember, the one thing he doubts is me. Me. He thought I did die, that I might be some sort of imposter. That was, until I showed him my scar. That shut him up real quick.” Tifa almost laughed through her tears at the absurdity of it all.
“I don’t know what to do, Aerith.” Tifa looked up at her friend. “Do I sound crazy to you?”
Aerith smiled at her once again. “Nope. Sounds perfectly sane to me.”
Despite it all, Aerith’s cheerful demeanor was enough to make Tifa smile through the pain and confusion, bringing her out of her momentary hopelessness.
“So what should I do? How can I make sense of any of this?” Tifa asked her, searching for answers she didn’t have.
“Tonight?” Aerith pondered, tapping her index finger against her chin. “No clue. But maybe a stiff drink will help?” Aerith grinned mischievously.
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Tifa, despite her best efforts, had been unable to resist Aerith’s joyful insistence of a girl’s night out on the town. They were supposed to be laying low after the events that had occurred in Midgar, but according to Aerith, “They’ll be looking for a big guy with a gun for a hand and a slightly smaller guy with an even bigger sword on his back, not two pretty girls.” Tifa had to admit she made a good point. So naturally both women had snuck out of their room at the inn, tiptoed past the room the boys occupied, and found their way out into the cool night air in the relative quiet of the city of Kalm. The only sound that broke the silence of the city around them were the occasional uncontrollable giggles of Aerith and the subsequent shushes of Tifa.
For all of Aerith’s enthusiasm, the slim brunette had absolutely no clue where she was going, and relied mostly on Tifa to guide them to a bar in one snug corner of the city, only slightly brighter and noisier than the rest of town. Despite being the more outgoing of the two women, Aerith had never even left the megalopolis that was Midgar; she’d never really had a reason to. That was where her mother was, and the steel-obscured sky that she took such strange comfort in. It was all she had ever known, and for Aerith, looking up into the night sky and seeing nothing but an endless array of stars was an equally wondrous and terrifying experience, one that she wanted to enjoy to the fullest with her newfound friends. She felt bad that Tifa was having boy trouble; she’d had her own fair share of that as well with a certain dark-haired soldier. But she couldn’t think of a better excuse to spend a night out on the town with her new best friend. Tifa clearly needed the drink.
Both women stumbled into the bar less than a little conspicuously, the dimly lit room mostly empty save for a few old-timers nursing their drinks before heading home for the night. To the surprise of absolutely no one, least of all Aerith and Tifa, all eyes became glued to both women the moment they stepped through the door. The women of Kalm were beautiful in a demure and humble sort of way, yet not a single one of them could hold a candle to the two women who just stepped into that humble dive bar. Tifa was what they referred to as a Midgar ten, a woman who stood out from the crowd even amongst her big city peers, and Aerith…well there was simply something different about Aerith. From her long braid, to her elfin features, to the way the very wind seemed to move about her, Aerith possessed an otherworldly beauty that left those around her perpetually stunned. What none of them knew was that she also possessed the blood of the Ancients, truly the last of her kind. Yet no matter how much Shinra may hound her, what would always tie her beauty all together in one nice, neat package was the shining smile that nearly always adorned her face; it made her nigh on irresistible to all but the most stubborn of men.
Ignoring the gawking stares, Aerith and Tifa walked to the furthest corner of the bar, half shrouded in darkness, and each took a seat upon an old leather stool. As soon as the bartender managed to pick his jaw up off the floor, he rushed back to meet them, promptly taking their drink orders. Aerith, having been incredibly sheltered for most of her life, was hardly familiar with anything having to do with alcohol, and the sheer amount of choices available to her became quickly overwhelming. Resisting the temptation to order one of everything, and at the recommendation of Tifa, who was far more experienced with all things alcohol, Aerith settled for what would taste the best to a newbie drinker: a simple fruity margarita. Tifa herself already knew exactly what she wanted, the only drink stiff enough to settle her frayed nerves: her own signature cocktail, the cosmo canyon. Luckily enough for her, the Seventh Heaven bar in Midgar and all of its signature drinks, the cosmo canyon especially, had become so well-loved and widely renowned that any bartender worth his salt should know exactly how to make it, so Tifa had no qualms about ordering it by name even in a dinky little backwater bar such as this. Their orders were in, and the two women fell into hushed conversation as they eagerly awaited the delivery of their drinks.
“Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure that old guy in the booth over there is staring right at you.” Aerith giggled quietly to Tifa. Tifa, completely missing the cue, craned her head around nearly a full 180 degrees and shot the man a quick glance, to which he responded by immediately averting his gaze. No man in that bar would be bold enough to meet the deep crimson eyes of the long-haired beauty.
Turning her attention back to the still giggling Aerith, Tifa rolled her eyes and whispered, “Oh please, if anything he was looking at you. I’m a wreck right now, but have you seen yourself?” Tifa clearly admired Aerith’s beauty, seemingly to the detriment of her own self-confidence.
Aerith could only giggle “Maybe he was staring at both of us? What do you think? Could a guy like that handle us two on one?”
“Two on one? No chance in hell.” Tifa immediately responded, and Aerith could only continue to laugh at the fact that Tifa clearly hadn't caught on to the fact that Aerith wasn’t referring to their chances in a fight.
Although before Aerith even had a chance to clarify, her incessant giggling was interrupted by the arrival of a drink so large it now had Aerith’s jaw dropping to the floor in awe. The glass it came in looked more like a bowl, and the fruity concoction within smelled absolutely divine, the aroma of coconut with hints of pineapple reaching Aerith’s nostrils the moment it was set before her. Her eyes lit up like a little kids in a candy store, and indeed, the object of her awe would taste just as sweet.
As for Tifa…well, Tifa was too absorbed in her own dire thoughts to realize that the martini placed before her was a far cry from her beloved cosmo canyon. Rather than the deep crimson color it should have been, its hue was more akin to that of a cherry, and if Tifa had cared enough to pay attention, she would have realized that the smell emanating forth from the beverage was not even close to the heady, intoxicating scent she had come to love from the drink she had invented herself. As Aerith eagerly picked her drink up with both hands and brought the bright green straw to her lips, Tifa absentmindedly wrapped her fingers around the thin stem of the martini glass and downed the entire thing in one gulp, to disastrous effect.
Much to her own chagrin, Tifa began to cough in the way one might cough if they had never drank a sip of alcohol in their life, drawing stares and a few chuckles from amongst the men still gathered there. The drink, which by this point Tifa had realized was most assuredly not her beloved cosmo canyon, did not go down smoothly, and the unexpected strength of the fiery liquor left her coughing and breathless for the better part of a minute. By the time she’d finally caught her breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, she was just in time to witness a sight that progressed her embarrassment even further: the huge smile plastered on Aerith’s face as she downed her first ever sip of alcohol, just as delicious as she had hoped it would be. By all appearances, it looked as though Tifa was the one with no worldly experience, and that Aerith was a battle-tested and mature adult. Truly, it was not Tifa’s night, and she felt on the verge of tears once again as her sympathetic friend rubbed her back consolingly and the bartender approached the two ladies more timidly than a coeurl cub who had angered its mother.
Tifa’s eyes flashed up to meet his sheepish gaze with unrestrained rage, the overwhelming emotions of the night boiling over into an anger that was rare to see on the raven-haired woman’s face. Before the guilty man could even mumble out a meager apology, Tifa’s scathing words escaped her lips.
“What the hell is this pig swill that you just served me?” Tifa’s words cut straight to the bone, and if looks could kill, the barkeep would have been a corpse already. Stumbling over his own words, the man finally managed to speak as Tifa stared daggers at him and Aerith watched on in stunned stupor at the intensity of her friend.
“I-I’m so sorry, Miss, honest. In truth, I, uh, really don’t know what a, umm, what the…”
“What? Spit it out man, what don’t you know?” Tifa’s patience was all but gone now.
“The- uhh, the cosmo canyon? I don’t really know how to make that. Heard of the place, heard of the drink, but never heard of how to make one though….yeah.” The man’s eyes were glued solidly to the floor; he did not dare to meet Tifa’s icy stare.
Tifa now broke her glare, if only to roll her eyes at the unbelievability of her poor luck. They were only a hop, skip, and a jump away from Midgar, and yet this fool bartender didn’t even know how to make what was arguably the most popular drink to ever come out of the city slums. She almost couldn’t believe her ears, and she certainly couldn’t believe how shit her luck had been since arriving in this town. Tifa sighed a heavy, clearly exhausted sigh, and tried to compose herself if only a little bit. She rapped her knuckles against the countertop of the bar to get the cowed barkeep’s attention, and spoke now in a much calmer tone of voice.
“Alright, I’ll tell you what. Here’s what we’re going to do: first of all you’re going to replace this filth in front of me with something so simple not even you could screw it up. I’m thinking whiskey, neat; how’s that sound to you, Aerith?” Tifa asked, turning to her friend. Aerith nodded fervently, the smile adorning her face from halfway behind the massive margarita glass now more mischievous than sweet as she went along with her frustrated friend.
Tifa continued. “Secondly, I’m going to do you a favor, a huge one in fact. For the sake of you and the lovely patrons of this bar,” the word ‘bar’ was said with more than a little vitriol, “I’m going to teach you how to make a proper cosmo canyon, so that I’ll be the last unsuspecting person to ever get served slop like this.” She gestured to the empty martini glass in front of her. “But I’m only going to teach you on one condition.”
The bartender nodded in agreement, not needing to even hear the terms of her condition to acquiesce to them. He was in enough trouble as it was. “Yes ma’am, anything.” He spoke gingerly.
Tifa gestured to a finely crafted black and white checkered board resting inconspicuously behind the bar, and for the first time that night a smile cracked upon her pretty face, albeit a sly one. “That’s a Queen’s Blood board, if I’m not mistaken.” The bartender nodded in agreement, his own features lighting up momentarily at the mention of his beloved game. Tifa continued, “I’m assuming you play? Well so do I; every good bartender should, after all. So here’s the deal: I’ll play you in Queen’s Blood. If you can pull off a win against me, I’ll teach you how to make a cosmo canyon, free of charge. But for every win I gain against you…” Tifa visibly smirked now, “You’ll owe me a free drink.” Tifa crossed her arms under her ample chest as she finished laying out her terms.
The bartender, somehow oblivious to the confidence that was oozing off of Tifa, gave a smirk of his own now. To his mind, he had nothing to lose and everything to gain, and furthermore, he had an ace in the hole. Or rather, a Chocobo and Moogle up his sleeve. That singular card had been the cornerstone of his deck for far longer than he could even recall, and had brought him far more wins than losses. He’d make this girl regret ever challenging him in the first place, and he’d do it by crushing her underfoot in a resounding Queen’s Blood victory. With nary a word, he turned his back to the two women and retrieved the playing board, placing it upon the countertop reverently and producing a deck of cards from within his apron.
“Do you require cards to play? I have a few spare decks under the counter, if need be.” The bartender met her eyes now smugly, dangerously overconfident in his own abilities.
“No thank you. I think I’ll stick with my own deck.” To the surprise of all, most of all Aerith, Tifa produced her own deck of cards, not from a pocket, which her black leather miniskirt had none of anyway, but rather from an altogether unexpected location: between her breasts. As Aerith laughed out loud, Tifa spoke again, “Let it not be said that I’m ever unprepared for a good game of Queen’s Blood. Now let’s play, shall we?”
What can be said about the match that followed? Put simply, it was a disastrous showing for the bartender, whose name was Vash. In more detailed terms, Vash’s overconfidence and overreliance on a single card made his playstyle all too predictable for a veteran player like Tifa. Her own deck, carefully crafted after many years of gameplay, was far more balanced for all matchups, and featured a few heavy hitting cards of its own, such as a fat chocobo and the ever-formidable Titan. Along with a few Shinra Soldier and Cactuar cards, Tifa’s deck was not one to be taken lightly. Poor Vash didn’t even stand a chance. Quite frankly, he was a mediocre player at best anyway; even a deck of the highest caliber would not have scored him a win against a cerebral player such as Tifa. She won all three rows handily, it was that thorough of a trouncing.
But a man’s pride is a fragile thing. One loss could be written off as a fluke, and one free drink would hardly hurt his bottom line. Far from willing to lay down and simply take it, Vash was eager for a rematch, sure that he had her strategy figured out. He couldn’t have been more wrong. The alcohol flowed freely for the better part of the next hour, and Vash’s loss rate skyrocketed into the heavens, as did the moon in the night sky. By the time Vash had finally had enough, every other patron of the bar had retired to their beds for the night. Only three souls remained in the dimly lit room, and one of them was now absolutely shit-faced drunk.
“One more game, come onnnn.” Tifa slurred her words as she spoke. The heavily inebriated woman was still confident in her skills, and was still eager for at least one more game, and one more drink. Vash, however, was at his wits end.
“No, no, I’m done playing Queen’s Blood with you, you…you freak of nature. Were you engineered in a lab or something?” Vash queried in utter exasperation.
“Nooo that would be me.” Aerith chimed in, much to the amusement of Tifa, whose laughter echoed throughout the bar in response to the ever-witty Aerith.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Vash cried out. “But I am done playing cards with that woman.”
“Oh come on you big baby,” Tifa chided him. “You really gonna let yourself get beat by a girl?” Tifa’s words had the man’s face reddening, although whether in anger or embarrassment, they did not know.
“You being a girl has nothing to do with it!” He retorted. “It’s just an off night for me. My mind is elsewhere, that’s all.”
“Oh yeah? Elsewhere huh? Maybe me being a woman has everything to do with your pitiful performance?” Tifa giggled girlishly as she leaned over the bar suggestively, practically putting on a show for the flustered man with the sheer amount of cleavage she was putting on display. Aerith’s eyes turned big as saucers in awe of the femininity on display from her friend. She had never seen Tifa act quite so unscrupulously, but she guessed anything was possible when someone had that many drinks in them.
“That…. That has nothing to do with my, er, performance, as it were. Yes, nothing at all, I assure you.” Vash’s eyes were glued squarely to his own shoes.
“Is that so? Then prove it. One more game for all the marbles. You do want to learn how to make that cosmo canyon, don’t you? Show me your skills, barman.” Every word out of Tifa’s mouth felt like something more than just an invitation. And of course, Vash’s manly pride could not resist any longer.
“Fine.” He mumbled nearly under his breath. “One more match.”
“Now that is what I wanted to hear!” Tifa exclaimed, and Aerith clapped her hands together in excitement.
Their final match went even more disastrously than their first. Only this time, it was Tifa’s overconfidence that got the best of her. Liquid courage had carried her a long way, but a good drunk knows when to quit, and Tifa was not in the habit of getting shit-faced. Her decision making skills were heavily impaired, and thus she had no idea that her final match would also be her first loss, and no more free drinks would be had that night. Vash, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically focused. Tifa’s taunts had shaken him, and although he was still a mediocre player, mediocrity was all he needed to beat Tifa in her drunken state. His beloved Chocobo and Moogle card carried him to victory at last, a victory so unexpected that he did not even boast or gloat when the points came down in his favor, he simply stood there behind the bar with an idiotic grin on his face.
Tifa herself had no words either, only a dumbfounded look on her reddened face, her mouth agape in stupor at the fact she had taken a loss. There was no shame to be had in losing, but there was certainly shame to be had in losing to Vash, even if she was heavily impaired. Her face reddened even further with the sudden embarrassment she felt, and for the first time that night, she could not bring herself to meet Vash’s eyes. The roles were reversed, even if Vash was being a good sport about it.
“Well, shit.” Aerith was the first one to break the silence. “I guess you can’t win 'em all.”
“No, I guess you can’t.” Tifa sounded almost dejected now. It really wasn’t her night, that much was certain.
“Well, it’s no big deal.” Aerith chimed in cheerfully. “All you’ve gotta do is teach him that drink, right? No biggie!” Aerith’s positivity was contagious, and Tifa already felt the grin returning to her face. And then, just as quickly, the smile disappeared in abject horror as Tifa came to a sudden realization. The recipe…she didn’t remember it. Amidst the fog clouding her head, the recipe for the cosmo canyon, such a simple thing, simply would not come into view of her mind's eye.
Aerith leaned in closely, immediately picking up on Tifa’s discomfort. “Tifa, what’s wrong?”
Tifa, choked up, could barely get the words out. “I- I can’t remember it. I don’t remember the recipe.”
Aerith could barely believe her ears. “What do you mean you don’t remember it? It’s your drink, and you’re the best bartender in all of Midgar!” The two women’s hushed tones had now caught the attention of Vash, who was finally done basking in the glory of his hard-earned win.
“Well you’re right, but…” Tifa struggled to think of what to say next. “But I’m just too damn drunk!” She exclaimed in exasperation, loud enough for Vash to hear. “And I’m sad too, I can barely think straight as it is.”
“Ladies, what seems to be the problem?” Vash chimed in. If Vash were a good bartender, he would have realized long ago that Tifa was far too wasted to even think straight. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Vash’s bartending skills were about as good as his Queen’s Blood strategy. That is to say, his drink mixing abilities, as well as his people reading skills left much to be desired. Perhaps it was better this way though; if he had realized how drunk Tifa truly was, he probably would not have been able to enjoy his victory over her. His reward, however, would not be forthcoming any time soon.
Tifa had now buried her face in her hands and could not bring herself to speak, and it was left to Aerith to break the bad news to Vash, who had an expectant look on his face. But this wasn’t the first time Aerith had found herself in a sticky situation, one in which she knew she would have to negotiate her way out of. She had already begun to wrack her brain for a solution to this predicament, and she wasn’t liking her options. Her knowledge of drink mixing was lacking to say the least (she blamed her mother’s overprotectiveness for that particular shortcoming), and having fled Midgar in such a rush, she had little else to offer Vash in the way of compensation. Except for one thing, that is, although that would have to be a last ditch effort to appease him if all else failed.
“Vash, right?” Aerith asked him with a polite smile. When he nodded his approval, she continued, “You’ll have to forgive my friend here, but she’s feeling a bit…under the weather. And I’m afraid she simply can’t, uh, remember….the recipe. For the cosmo canyon, I mean.” Aerith’s polite smile had turned to one of sheepishness, and she was finding it hard to meet Vash’s eyes as well.
Vash himself could barely believe his ears. He had worked so damn hard to finally pull off that win, and had wasted far too much free booze in the process to even think about. Never mind the fact he wouldn’t have pulled off the win in the first place if not for Tifa’s drunken state thanks to Vash’s free booze. He had earned that recipe, dammit, and he didn’t quite care whether it was by his own skills or by Tifa’s lack thereof.
“You can’t be serious.” Vash wasn’t sure who the words were even directed at, but seeing as how Tifa’s face was still buried in her hands in shame, he turned to address Aerith directly. “We had a deal! You can’t just go back on that deal because your girl can’t handle a few drinks!” Vash’s words were becoming heated.
“Ok, I may be no expert on alcohol, but that was deeeefinitely more than just a few drinks,” Aerith retorted. “She trounced your ass so many times, it’s a wonder she’s even still conscious. It makes me question the quality of what you were serving her, quite honestly.”
“I- I- what?” Vash was practically sputtering at this point in response to Aerith’s implication, and in the absence of any comprehensible words from his mouth, a quite unexpected sound arose, and it was emanating from Tifa. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep, her head laid across her arms atop the bar, and the sound of gentle snores rose from her slumbering form. Aerith and Vash both fell silent in stunned awe. She really was drunk as a skunk, and it seemed that Aerith’s comment about Tifa’s consciousness now rang untrue.
“That’s…awkward.” Aerith muttered as she was now left virtually alone in the room with Vash, who turned to face her once again, this time with a look of sheer exhaustion on his face rather than one of frustration. He looked nearly as ready to pass out as Tifa had, and his exhaustion was only punctuated by the heavy sigh that burst forth from the depths of his lungs. The downtrodden man seemed ready to give up and accept his losses, and in that moment Aerith actually felt a little bad for him. He looked lonely, as a matter of fact; and Aerith knew exactly how exhausting that kind of loneliness could be. It was then that she knew she’d do whatever it took to cheer the man up. Not only because Tifa now owed him a debt and she couldn’t leave her friend in a predicament like that, but also because Aerith knew spreading joy to this man would help to make the world she cared so much about a better place.
Sidling closer to the bar with a smile of pure mischief upon her face, Aerith tapped Vash on the shoulder to get his attention, his head having sunk down into his hands as he slumped in sheer exhaustion. As he looked up to meet her gaze, Aerith could now take a better look at the bags under his eyes and the crows feet at their corners. He had the look of a man who worked hard and rarely had a break, much less a vacation or time for pleasure. The look in her eyes seemed to convey that tonight would be a different story, far different than every night where Vash had walked the lonely road home just to crash in bed immediately upon arrival just to do it all again the next day. It was beyond Aerith’s power to reduce the tedium of the daily life of one lonely bartender, but it was well within her abilities to give him one very special memory for his mind to wander back to on the days where his mind just needed a distraction. And as beautiful as Aerith was, she was sure he wouldn’t mind his already late night being extended a little later to enjoy her company to the fullest extent.
“Vash, are you single? Not married, right? No wife and kids anxiously waiting for you to return home tonight?” Aerith asked the man with more than a little mischief tainting her sweet voice.
“No. No wife and definitely no kids. Why?” Vash replied warily, still feeling defensive after the saucy business with Tifa that had bruised his pride.
“Because with no wife in the way, there’s nothing to stop me from doing this” Aerith quickly and abruptly placed one hand upon the bar to steady herself as she reached all the way across to grab the collar of Vash’s slightly unbuttoned grey shirt, pull him forward, and place a soft kiss directly upon his lips. The man was so stunned by the sudden move, and so weary from a long day of work to boot, that he didn’t even put up the slightest bit of resistance. And really, why would he? He had no wife or girlfriend waiting for him, just an empty bed and a restless night ahead of him. Aerith was perhaps the most beautiful woman that had ever stepped foot into his dingy bar, rivaled only by Tifa herself, sleeping soundly nearby. Vash would have been a fool to pull away from the kiss that Aerith now enveloped him in, and so he didn’t. He simply melted into the sensation of her pillowy soft lips against his own, and allowed her to linger there for as long as she liked. Neither one of them knew how much time had passed when they finally pulled apart, breathless and red in the face, Aerith sporting that same mischievous grin, and Vash with a look of equal parts elation and confusion upon his handsome face.
Aerith couldn’t deny that she was somewhat attracted to the handsome, older man. He had the rugged and tired look of a man who’d grown accustomed to hard work. There was nothing particularly special or unique about his appearance, but in a way, that in itself was attractive to Aerith. She had lived in Midgar her entire life, surrounded by the oddest folks around, and something about the simplicity of a handsome bartender with a scruffy beard and strong hands had her pressing her legs together to keep herself from squirming excitedly. He had none of the angelic beauty of someone like Cloud or her first love Zack, but Aerith was an adult now, and her tastes were now that of an adult as well. Sometimes simple was better, and right now it had her heart racing and ready to pound right out of her chest,
She locked eyes with him again and posed one final question. “I can think of a few ways to pay off Tifa’s debt. Do you have any ideas yourself?” Vash nodded nervously, and a quick gesture of her finger was all he needed to nearly hop over the bar to join her on her side. Both Vash and Aerith paid no mind to Tifa slumped over the bar with her head resting on her arms as they kissed once again, this time fully embracing and banishing any space left between them. Vash wrapped his arms around the girl, who was not only a good bit younger than him but fairly shorter as well, pressing her modest chest flush against his torso as their lips met hungrily, their hot breath mingling, the taste of sweet alcohol still present on Aerith’s tongue. Their tongues intertwined as the kiss became more passionate, Vash’s hands searching Aerith’s body for purchase, finding their way to her perky rear end and squeezing greedily through the thin material of her white dress. Meanwhile, Aerith took great pleasure in the feeling of Vash’s arms and chest against her fingertips. He was strong, without a doubt, but it was a more bulky and solid strength than the kind Cloud or Zack were possessed of, the kind of strength a man builds up after many years of lifting heavy boxes, doing dishes, and whatever other thankless work went into running a bar. She dug her nails into the muscles of his back as his lips worked their way lower towards her neck, kissing and sucking upon her supple skin, eliciting equal parts pleasure and pain as he left a trail of red marks upon her pale skin. Vash seemed to have no qualms about treating her roughly, and something deep within Aerith’s mind had to admit that she loved it. Zack had always been so gentle with her, as if she were some sort of delicate flower and the soldier was afraid he might break her with his very touch. And although, in her youth, she had loved and appreciated the care with which he treated her, the older and tougher she got, the more she found she desired someone who would truly treat her as the woman she had bloomed to be. She wanted to be ravished by someone who didn’t see her as just a damsel in distress to be protected, but rather as a woman who needed to be fucked. And it seemed, in that moment, that Vash might give her exactly what she had been longing for.
Amidst his voracious kissing, Vash’s hand had found its way between her legs, spreading apart the knees that she had been working so hard to keep pressed together in order to hide the arousal she knew was building between her thighs. As his hands grew bolder, the long skirt of her dress was drawn higher and higher towards her waist until at last her thighs were exposed to the warm air and her demure white panties were on full display for Vash to see and to feel. Aerith had never been one to adorn herself with fancy accoutrements, and her choice of plain undergarments matched well with her daily choice of slender ankle-length dress, simple black boots, and red leather jacket. And really, Vash could not have cared less whether she was wearing plain white panties or the fanciest lace lingerie only the likes of which someone as wealthy as Scarlet of the Shinra board could afford. No, what Vash was fully focused on now was the feeling of the bare flesh of Aerith’s small but perky butt cheek against his left hand, and the ticklish sensation of her full brown bush against his fingertips as he slipped his right hand underneath the waistband of her underwear. Aerith, despite having always lived in a city that was fashion forward and obsessed with vanity, had never much cared for the beauty trends that came and went like a breeze in the summer. She was more in touch with nature than anyone else in that city could have claimed to be, and the wild state of her untamed pubic hair reflected that natural tendency wonderfully. To Vash, it was heavenly. Her bush was silky to the touch and twined wonderfully between his fingers as they explored ever further lower, at last reaching what he truly wished to find: the warm wetness nestled right between her thighs. His index and middle fingers quickly plunged into her already soaked pussy, immediately eliciting a whimper of pleasure and longing from the squirming girl pressed against him. He didn’t wish to rush her quickly to her orgasm, simply using his fingers to calmly and assertively probe her needy hole as he continued to lavish kisses across her dainty neck and collarbone. Aerith relished every passing second of having her pussy explored by a man who clearly knew how to use his hands to great effect, showing her immense appreciation by the way in which her pelvis soon began to grind against his palm like a needy animal with a mind of its own. Vash’s only response to this desperate supplication was to remove his fingers from their maiden exploration inside her, only to press his palm flush against her fluffy bush where he could then use his fingertips to masterfully tease her aching clit, all while his other hand continued to knead the soft flesh of her ass.
Against the bare skin of her leg, Aerith could feel something stiff pressing urgently at her thigh, prodding and poking her even through the multiple layers of fabric that constituted Vash’s pants and boxers. With her clit still being brutally teased by his skillful fingers, Aerith’s hand now made its way down from where it had clutched at his muscular back, down to where she could engage in a little teasing of her own. Though his belt-buckled pants proved to be an obstacle in her path, Aerith took great pleasure in the way Vash now squirmed as she began to rub her slender fingers against his cock, right against the spot where it so achingly tented his trousers. It was hot against her touch, and she almost fancied that she could feel it throbbing tenderly with every quick, pounding heartbeat that echoed through Vash’s body. Very quickly Vash’s desire to continue teasing Aerith’s was overwhelmed by his desire to feel her dainty fingers wrapped around his throbbing member, skin to skin, rather than with any amount of separation between them. His hands at last reluctantly left their spots at her ass and pussy, if only so he could quickly and nimbly loosen the buckle of his belt just enough to drag the waistband of his pants and underwear swiftly downward, only briefly catching on the stiff length of his cock, before falling with little fanfare down around his ankles, his dick springing up abruptly to slap against his pelvis with a lewd *smack* that left a smear of glistening precum on the skin of his stomach. His cock came to rest perfectly within Aerith’s waiting palm, rock hard and hot to the touch and everything she was hoping it would be. The man was well endowed, not absurdly so, but certainly the biggest Aerith had ever had the pleasure to hold within her grasp. And although the moment was hot and heady, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, the young brunette woman was not satisfied with simply standing there motionless with his cock in her hand.
No, Aerith had a much better idea. Before Vash’s hands could find their way back between her thighs as he so desperately desired, Aerith dropped to her knees before him. Her pretty dress splayed gently on the ground in a neat circle around her as her face came mere inches away from the visibly throbbing length of turgid meat that was Vash’s cock. Her eyes widened in uncontained admiration, taking in every last bit of the steamy scene before her, of the way his cock swayed under its own weight, the precum leaking from his swollen head, the heavy, full balls that hung ponderously underneath it all. Her mind devoured the scene greedily in an effort to ensure she would never forget it, a million mental images saved within her brain in the split second before Vash, in his impatience, shuffled forward and pressed the head of his cock against her cheek, smearing precum along her skin everywhere it touched. Her long braid was suddenly in the grasp of his fist as he took control of her head, her senses overwhelmed by the dominance of his guiding hand and prodding cock. He rubbed it on her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose, obscuring her vision as it came to rest atop her forehead. In such a position, with his heavy balls pressed flush against her lips, it was all she could do to sniffle weakly at the strong scent of his manhood, and plant a feverish kiss gently against the smooth skin of his sack. Vash snickered at this above her, in love with the way she had so quickly made herself so subservient to his whims, and took her gentle kiss as an invitation to further press his luck, quite in the literal sense as he pressed his balls further against her face, blocking her nostrils and prompting Aerith to part her lips, not only to freely breath, but also to tenderly snake her tongue out from between her teeth and lovingly lick the balls that threatened to suffocate her.
Her taste buds were met with the heady, salty taste of sweat and arousal, and she absolutely relished it. Her tongue wrapped greedily around one heavy orb, gently suckling it, before moving on to the next, the petite woman using her mouth in a double assault with the express purpose of worshiping Vash’s nuts. The man, in response, could only grunt with staunch approval and use his hand wrapped tightly around her braid to push her head ever further into his groin. Both man and woman were of the opinion that that was right where she belonged.
It was only after showing Vash’s balls the proper reverence they deserved that the man pulled her head slowly back, Aerith briefly having the chance to admire her good work. His nuts glistened and shimmered with her own saliva, the same saliva that now coated her chin sloppily along with a few stray pubic hairs near the corners of her lips. Vash smiled down at the sight of the gorgeous girl below him, made even more beautiful by the fire of the lust that burned in her eyes. He could see it clear as day when their eyes met, and could not resist the temptation to lean down and kiss her again, their tongues mingling passionately as Vash tasted the saltiness of his own sweat upon her palate. When at last the kiss broke, it was only so that Vash could stand up straight, take his cock in hand once again, and align the swollen tip perfectly with Aerith’s waiting lips. They both knew she wanted it, yet Vash waited patiently for Aerith to give a pitiful nod, almost more of supplication than of approval, before finally sliding his thick cock into her open mouth.
It was an immediate sensation of heaven made manifest for the lonely bartender. Her soft tongue pillowed the underside of his cock perfectly, his head bottoming out quickly at the back of her throat as he threatened to choke her with its length. Aerith was no stranger to blowjobs, yet the feeling of such a thick member in her mouth was alien to her, and she braced her hands against his strong and stable thighs to waylay the initial panic that beset her brain as her throat was plugged so thoroughly by his cock. Her fingernails left stark impressions against his skin as he slowly retreated back, only to once again slide his cock into her mouth, stubbornly testing the limits of what Aerith could and could not take. She was a stubborn girl herself, however, and at no point did she ever retreat from the challenge or cry in protest when her face went red from lack of breath and tears streamed down her pretty pale cheeks. The blowjob Aerith gave was a passionate back and forth battle as Vash took pleasure in testing her limits and Aerith took more in breaking them. Her head began to bob in violent worship along his length, taking control away from Vash as Aerith refused to submit in their sexual game of conquest. By her actions, she made sure he knew full well that he only received such perfect worship because she deemed him worthy, and she did so by fucking her own throat upon his wonderfully thick cock.
She covered his length with a torrent of sticky, wet saliva, her tongue twirling around his girth and licking with a flourish as her head flew backward off the tip, only to immediately return as she speared her face upon his dick, never satisfied until she felt the tickle of his scratchy pubes against her dainty nose and his head buried deep within her tiny throat. She choked and coughed and sputtered as she deep-throated the lucky bartender, and she loved every second of it. She relished the subservience of it all, allowing her mind to fully dedicate itself to using her mouth and throat as a wet cock sleeve, the perfect distraction from all the drama that had surrounded her and uprooted her from her home. Her mind did not drift to Cloud, or Zack, or Shinra, or MIdgar. Aerith Gainsborough was entirely focused on worshiping this man’s cock, and she was doing a perfect job of it.
Vash’s moans and groans of pleasure above her drew her out of her reverie and allowed her a moment of clarity amidst the intense lust. She did not desire for this to end here and now, for she had something else in mind. She was loath to defer his immediate pleasure, yet even more loath to defer her own entirely. And so it was that with this in mind, Aerith withdrew her mouth from his throbbing cock with a satisfying wet *pop* and allowed him to simmer for a moment, panting in exertion above her, knuckles white where they gripped the bar tightly. She had taken him for quite the ride, yet pulled the brake right before the final drop, leaving his cock and balls dripping wet and sorely disappointed at the deferral of their release. Vash met her gaze in wordless exasperation as she rose to her feet, using the back of her forearm to irreverently wipe the spit and slobber from her chin and cheeks, a giddy smile stretched across her features. Before the man could utter a word of protest, Aerith’s dress fell off one shoulder and then the other, until at last it fell to the floor and revealed her nearly naked form to Vash in all of its petite and perfect glory. Her plain white panties were the last to go, stained and wet with the evidence of her arousal as she stepped out of them. She closed the little distance between them once again for a positively steamy kiss, no article of clothing remaining to separate them, the warmth of each other’s skin evident as they pressed tightly together. But most exciting of all was the sensation of Vash’s hard, wet cock pressed flush against her slender tummy as he took her in his arms and kissed her with perhaps more passion than any man ever had. The spit and precum mingled on his cock left a heady mixture of arousal against her flawless skin, his hands exploring her now nude form with all the greed and lust a man could muster.
It was those same desperate hands that lifted her bodily from the ground and onto the top of the bar counter, his fingers gripping her ass tightly, the tips dug deep into her soft flesh. Her body was alighted right next to the still slumbering form of Tifa, who was neither noticed or acknowledged by either of the two people who only had eyes for each other at that moment. Aerith’s hands delicately grasped Vash’s shoulders for support as he took his cock in hand and lined it up against Aerith’s waiting slit. The dirty mind of the man could not resist lewdly slapping the head of his cock against her pussy, leaving glistening globs of spit and precum shimmering on her soft brown bush. Her legs were spread apart, ready and waiting for what she knew was coming next, her feet dangling uselessly in the air above Vash’s shoulders. He steadied himself with his left hand against the bar, and thrust forward at last, feeding his entire cock to Aerith in one smooth motion, his balls smacking her exposed asshole lewdly. For just a brief moment, the body of bartender and flower girl pressed against each other tightly, their breath mingling, the air between them nonexistent, neither set of eyes fully focused on the face of the other, but rather, focused on the intensity of the pleasure of filling, and of being filled. And then Vash drew back, and Aerith was left with an emptiness inside her that ached to be filled once again; Vash was more than happy to oblige.
He did not start slow, as most men might when with a woman for the first time, and Aerith was eternally grateful for it. There was no time to take things slow, there was only one night, the here and now, and both of them were desperate to make that count. So no, Vash did not fuck Aerith slow and sensually; he fucked her with the passion of a man possessed, of a man who had not been with a woman in far too long to recall and yet now found himself balls deep inside the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and was ever likely to see in his lifetime. It was akin to the experience of a man on the brink of death, having lost his way in a desert far too vast to escape, only to stumble upon an oasis of vibrant green and blue hues, possessing the cleanest, most crystal clear water to slake that dying man’s thirst, and to give him the strength he needs to step back into civilization. Life under Shinra’s rule was an easy thing for no one, and Vash was no exception. Aerith was his lifeline, the motivation he needed in that moment to continue on, the lighthouse in the storm. Perhaps it was only for one night, and perhaps he’d never see her again, just as the dying man may not remember the location of the oasis within the depths of that vast desert. But none of that mattered, because the memory of the gift that had been granted would be enough to help him carry on.
Vash fucked Aerith hard and fast upon the counter of his bar, his hips a violent blur as they pounded into her with every ounce of strength he had. His mouth seemed connected to her collarbone as he focused on little more than the frenzied pace of his hips and the pleasure that steadily grew stronger within his loins. His cock was perfectly enveloped by the tight wetness of Aerith’s pussy, a sensation that seemed to suck him back in relentlessly each time his hips drew back, always coaxing him back within the deepest parts of her where the pleasure was most powerful. Aerith found herself trembling and quivering in delight under the focused assault of Vash’s cock inside her. Her mind drifted lazily in a pool of pleasure, awhirl with the feeling of his cock-head pressed against her womb, his balls against her asshole, his lips against her skin, his hands around her thighs. She shook like a leaf in the wind, she whimpered, and she came on his cock, her pussy clenching in spasming undulations. Her angelic moans were the first sound to have broken through the monotonous rhythm of skin slapping skin and heavy breathing.
Tifa heard something. It was not the sound of another person snoring, or the sound of the city awakening all around her. It was the sweet sound of illicit pleasure, and it was emanating from the throat of someone unfamiliar to her in that manner. Many things of interest were noticed by Tifa before any visual stimuli had the chance to elucidate her. First and most curious of all were the sounds that had woken her up, the sounds of wanton pleasure. Second and third, the least pleasant of the bunch, were the splitting headache in her skull, and the aching kink in her neck from having passed out on the bar with her neck at a jaunty angle. Fourth and final was the very realization that she had been at the bar, and was still at the bar.
Tifa opened her eyes. What met them was bewildering; it made her question if she was dreaming. But no, as her eyes came into focus and she struggled to shove off the pain of the headache that pounded in her head, she understood that she was witnessing an entirely different kind of pounding. Right before her eyes was a cock plunging in and out of a pussy. An impressive cock, too, surrounded by an impressive bush. And as Tifa stirred, lifting her head the merest inch, her eyes came to rest upon the visage of the woman receiving the pounding that Tifa herself would much rather be on the receiving end of. It was Aerith. But no, surely not. Tifa blinked. She blinked once again. Her eyes shifted in and out of focus amidst a drunken haze. But there was no mistaking that angelic elfin face, no matter how sweaty and flushed it was. There was no mistaking that long brunette braid, no matter how tangled and disheveled it now was. Aertih was getting fucked, and suddenly Tifa felt all alone with her sorrows once again. But she wouldn’t stand for it. Not this time.
Aerith was coming down from the high of a second, even more powerful orgasm, when suddenly she felt a third and entirely unexpected hand upon her leg. Aerith’s face jerked quickly to where her calf was held tight in a vice grip, and saw the hand of a woman, a hand connected to an arm, connected to the body of Tifa Lockhart. Tifa struggled to meet her gaze, yet met her with a drunken, positively lewd smile on her face. Aerith smiled back, yet it was a smile of sheer embarrassment and subdued shame. She was caught in the act. Vash, as yet, was utterly unaware of this new development, his eyes closed tightly in pure bliss, his mind focused sharply on prolonging his pleasure for as long as he could last. He was not doing a very good job. No amount of focus could distract him from the way Aerith’s pussy clenched and spasmed on his cock. The first time she had cum, it had nearly been the end of him, yet somehow he had pulled through, biting his lip, digging his fingers into her pale flesh, and enduring the immense pleasure. This time he would not be so lucky. Aerith had bore down on him even more tightly the second time, and as her pussy gushed and creamed upon his cock, Vash rapidly approached his own orgasm.
What happened next was a result of three inexorable acts: the first was Aerith’s panic. A twofold realization had impressed itself upon her mind: the first that Vash might cum inside her, and she was not eager to get pregnant, given the circumstances, and next that Tifa had caught them, and she could not very well continue to get fucked like a slut while her new best friend watched in a drunken stupor. The second unfortunate act was Vash’s inability to control himself. He was going to cum, just as surely as a poorly built dam would overflow. He did not particularly care where he came, he only knew that he must, and soon. The third and final uncontrollable act was Tifa’s undeniable desire to banish her loneliness by joining the fun. She had stirred enough to move her body, and Aerith’s lovely gaze and even lovelier smile seemed to her to be an open invitation. It was not, but that did not register or matter to the drunken mind of Tifa Lockhart. And so it was thus that within a matter of moments, Aerith had pounded on Vash’s chest with her fists, succeeded in communicating for him to pull out of her thoroughly fucked pussy, only for Tifa to just as quickly lay her head upon Aerith’s lap, her coal-black locks spreading lazily over Aerith’s thighs.
Vash’s nuts clenched spasmodically, and he came. It was the most vicious, satisfying, gratifying orgasm the man had ever had, and he relished it with his eyes closed, his senses blind to every outside sensation other than that of his balls violently ejecting his seed from the spasming head of his cock. He did not notice that the first rope of cum painted a white streak across Aerith’s fluffy brown bush and taut stomach. He certainly did not notice that the second, and the third, and every subsequent spurt of his seed sprayed across the face of Tifa, who took it all with a lazy, drunken smile on her pretty face. Aerith could do nothing but observe in shock and abject horror, with Tifa’s head laid down across her lap and Vash’s cock before her spewing cum. He plastered her face with his cum, coated her sparkling white teeth with another shade of creamy white, clogged her nostrils with cloyingly thick white fluid, and gave her lips a layer of viscous balm. Tifa and Vash loved every second of it. Aerith could only hope and pray that Tifa was drunk enough not to remember any of this the next day.
When Vash at last opened his eyes, reality crashed down hard upon him. Apologies flowed from his lips like a waterfall, but they were not needed. Aerith was not cross with him, and the apologies quickly ceased when he had to defend himself from Tifa’s drunken attempts to kiss him with his cum still dripping from her lips. Aerith would have found it truly funny, had she not still been utterly mortified by the unfortunate and truly unforeseen series of events. But really, there was nothing to worry about. It was certainly a struggle to put her dress back on with Tifa hanging off her legs like dead weight, begging to be fucked just like she had just been. It was certainly even harder to use a hastily located towel from behind the bar to wipe the cum from Tifa’s face when the raven-haired woman refused to sit still, lunging for Vash’s waistband every few seconds. And it was certainly impossible to get Tifa to shut up about how beautiful Aerith had looked with a big cock inside her, and how good Vash’s cum had tasted upon her lips. “Mmmm…salty, just like a cosmo canyon…yup.” Tifa had grinned lopsidedly and winked at the ashamed bartender.
But really, everything was alright. Accidents were accidents, and nothing could detract from the wonderful night Aertith and Vash had just had. Tifa’s debt was paid and then some, not that she would ever know it. Vash’s look of shame could only be replaced by a grin of boyish satisfaction as Aerith had gently pecked him on the lips one final time, wished him goodnight, and then bodily dragged Tifa through the doors of the bar and out into the cool night air under the lights of Kalm. It was not a long walk back to their hotel, where Tifa collapsed upon her bed, quickly unconscious, dreaming only of a beautiful flower girl and a handsome man who offered her her favorite drink. She did not remember a single thing the next morning. Aerith could only grin sweetly and mischievously when Tifa complained of her aching head.