He was watching her. He couldn't stop watching her. Or thinking about her. At the church as they marveled at the wonder of Aerith's Healing Rain, on the way home as he rode alone on the back of Fenrir, and once he reached Seventh Heaven, where friends and strangers alike had already gathered in celebration. Throughout the whole evening, his patience wore thin. As grateful as he was to his friends for coming to his aid, at the moment they were all that stood between him and time alone with Tifa.

With the bar full, she barely had time to breathe, despite the help the kids and their friends provided. Even if he somehow mustered up the courage to talk to her, every time he got close she would just shove a tray of orders to his chest to bring to a table. A few times, their hands would brush, and he felt himself reacting like a teenage boy, realizing that it was the most they'd touched since he'd found her unconscious in the church. And that had been the closest they'd been to each other for months. Since he'd disappointed her and left their family without explanation.

At that thought, his heart constricted. He could still vividly remember the sight of her battered and lifeless, and the terror that had gripped him at that moment as he thought he'd lost her. That his worst nightmare had come true, and he'd somehow outlived her.

Despite the hustle and bustle of Seventh Heaven, Tifa remained at the forefront of his thoughts throughout the night. The selfish part of him wondered if she was thinking about him too (did he even have the right to ask himself those types of questions, after everything he'd put her through)? Although he could swear that he caught her looking his way, between entertaining Denzel and Marlene and avoiding the many attempts at small talk aimed his way. Whether that was a genuine observation or his wishful thinking, he couldn't be sure. His mind had always been a confusing mess when it came to Tifa.

What definitely did not go unnoticed were the scowls that Barret was sending his way. He had a feeling that if it weren't for Marlene in their vicinity, the older man would have a few choice words for him, none of which would be pleasant. Although Barret had mostly been out of town recently, he'd been kept up to date on Cloud's transgressions through his regular phone calls to Seventh Heaven. That was one altercation he wouldn't be able to avoid forever.

Although the evening dragged on longer than most, it eventually came time for them to call it a night. He and Tifa took care of ushering any remaining patrons out the door, their friends having already passed out in various corners of the bar. Despite Tifa's protests to let her handle it, he insisted on helping her clean up the remnants of the celebration. They worked in a comfortable silence, the quiet domesticity of the exchange calming and nostalgic. Just being close to her had always had a soothing presence on him.

When they finished tidying up, she pivoted to face him, the start of a smile on her lips. Although it was something he'd seen many times before (even if his own foolishness meant he had seen little of it lately), it still sent a warmth through him.

"Help me get the kids to bed?" she asked, gesturing to the other room where Marlene and Denzel were curled up in two of the booths. With the excitement of the day, Tifa had allowed them a reprieve from their usual bedtime and the late hour had finally caught up to them. He nodded.

Carefully stepping over a sleeping Nanaki and a drunken Cid, Tifa picked up Marlene while Cloud grabbed hold of Denzel. Both kids seemed to stir but were too out of it to fully wake up, which was to be expected. It surprised him they'd lasted as long as they had, considering how much had happened in such a brief period. He fully expected to not see them up and about until noon the next day, even Marlene, who he knew hated sleeping in.

As quietly as they could manage, they made their way up the stairs and tucked the kids into bed, Cloud taking a moment to smooth back Denzel's fringe and get another look at the spot on his forehead where the geostigma used to be. Throughout the evening, he'd already picked up on an encouraging change in the young boy's demeanor. No longer on the brink of death, he'd been more sociable, more likely to follow Marlene's lead as they helped Tifa tend to the bar and excitedly listened to the wild (and only slightly exaggerated) stories that the ex-members of Avalanche readily supplied once they'd had a few drinks.

As he hovered above Denzel's bed, he felt himself being stared at. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Tifa was leaning against the doorway, still donning the same smile from earlier. He felt something flutter in his chest. With one last look at the kids, he retreated into the hallway where Tifa was already waiting for him.

"He's already doing so much better," she said, relief clear in her voice. "It's like he's a different kid."

"Yeah," he agreed with a nod.

"And you?" she asked, gesturing to his arm. So used to having to hide the evidence of his geostigma, all night he'd felt an instinctual panic each time he glimpsed the bare skin of his forearm before realizing it was no longer necessary to cover it up. It would take some getting used to. Among other things.

"A bit sore is all," he explained, wringing out his arm as if to reassure her.

"I'm glad," she said, shifting her weight from side to side. Hesitantly, she took a step towards him, reaching up to place her hands against his shoulders. When he didn't shy away from her, she ran her fingers through his hair, the back of her hand brushing against his forehead. He felt his eyes waver closed for just a moment at the warmth and familiarity of her touch.

"And how about up here?" she asked, her voice a whisper. Her other hand came to rest gingerly on his chest, right up against his heart. "Or in here?"

He hesitated. Even with Tifa, even when it was just the two of them together like this, he'd always had a hard time opening up, no matter how much time passed. Instead of trying to communicate what he was feeling into words, he lifted his hands to hers, squeezing it against his chest.

As lacking of a response as it was, she seemed satisfied. "It's all right. You can talk to me when you're ready." For the umpteenth time that night, he reminded himself that she was too good for him. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Cloud hated that question, because it reminded him that despite her best attempts to hide it, she was afraid that he'd leave her. Again. But it was one he deserved. "If that's okay."

"It's always okay, Cloud." There was a pause as she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "I would tell you to take the bed in your office, but Yuffie's already passed out in there."

He nodded in understanding. "It's all right. I'll make myself comfortable downstairs." He figured he could find a suitable spot despite the many people already passed out in the bar.

A ghost of a laugh passed through her lips as she shook her head. "That's not what I was suggesting."

Intertwining their fingers together, she began to lead him gently by the hand down the hallway. Towards her bedroom–what used to be their bedroom. His heart beat loudly in his chest.

Her confidence seemed to waver slightly as they crossed the threshold. In the privacy of the room they'd once shared, the weight of all that they still needed to discuss was even clearer. Very little has changed since he'd run away, the various belongings he'd left behind still in the exact spot from the last morning he'd spent in this room. A reminder of the never-ending faith that Tifa held in him, no matter how many times he let her down.

He was shaken from his ruminations when Tifa moved towards her dresser, shooting him a shy look over her shoulder as she undressed and her clothes pooled at her feet. His eyes hungrily followed her form–her shapely legs, her wide hips, and her toned back, mostly obscured by her hair. The sight made him remember what it was like to feel her skin and her hair beneath his fingers. His fist clenched involuntarily.

All the while, he stood still like a statue, not sure what to do with himself. When she turned to face him, the first thing he noticed was that she was wearing one of his old shirts. His stomach did a somersault at the realization.

His eyes followed the gentle sway of her hips as she approached him, much more noticeable now than from when he had been watching her in the bar. Once in front of him, her hands settled on his shoulders, her fingers resting at his collar and brushing against the skin of his neck.

"Let's get you out of this thing and ready for bed," she said. "That okay?" He nodded.

Together, they made quick work of his pauldron, his gloves, and his shirt, but her hands hesitated at the waistband of his pants. She looked at him for confirmation, which he readily gave her, before she began to undo his belt. He didn't really know why she was doing this when he was fully capable of undressing himself, but he enjoyed the intimacy of the moment nonetheless. And the more primal part of his brain couldn't help but appreciate the feel of her fingers brushing against his bare skin as she helped him step out of what remained of his clothing until he was left in nothing but his underwear.

She stepped away from him, and he instantly missed the closeness. "All good?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pivoted away from him, most likely to head to bed. Before she could get far, he closed the distance between them once again, suddenly overcome with the desire to keep her as close to him as possible. His lips found hers in an instant, and although she froze at first, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection, she quickly leaned into him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as his own settled at her waist, doing the same.

Since their reunion in Midgar, Cloud had shared a lot of kisses with Tifa that were etched permanently into his memory. Their first under the Highwind, shy and tentative before becoming desperate, knowing that they may not have much time left to enjoy each other fully. The one they'd shared after defeating Sephiroth, high on adrenaline and hope for the future. Or the last kiss he'd shared with her the morning he'd left, in which he'd tried to channel all of his affection for her and remorse for what he was about to do–the kiss he'd thought at the time might be the last he'd ever share with her. But none of those memories compared to this moment–the familiar feeling of her skin against his, her mouth moving in perfect sync with his own, and the knowledge that despite all he'd done to hurt her, she was still willing to share her life with him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt like he had permission to begin to live for himself, to work through the trauma and guilt caused by the deaths of those he'd failed to protect. And any future he imagined for himself, Tifa and their found family played an intricate role in it.

He didn't let her stray far when they broke their kiss, leaning his forehead against hers as they waited for their breathing to relax. Her eyes met his, and he felt something in his chest tighten at both the warmth and desire that he saw there, at the slight flush of her cheeks. "Welcome home, Cloud."

Her hands raked down his chest, the feel of her nails scraping against his skin eliciting a primal feeling in him which he'd been holding in by the thinnest of margins, and which he'd gone for far too long without. Leaning in, he kissed her again, his arms gripping her tighter around the waist as he pressed their bodies closer together. He hadn't been expecting anything like this on his first night back home, would have never thought to ask it of her, but he also couldn't deny that he'd been dreaming about being this close to Tifa since the last time they were together. As long as she would allow him, he would take as much of her as he could get.

They moved together towards the bed, stumbling slightly as they refused to break their kiss. As soon as the back of Tifa's knees hit the bed, she reclined, pulling him down with her. Her fingers began to trace his skin as if she was trying to grab ahold of as much of him as possible, forming gentle circles along his back before moving into his hair. His lips moved to plant slow kisses to the nape of her neck, to which she responded by arching into his mouth and letting out the gentlest of whimpers. Her hands moved down his sides before skimming his abdomen, just above his waistband, which caused him to groan against her shoulder. "Tifa…"

"I missed you," she whispered against his ear. Instead of responding, he kissed her again. She understood what he was trying to say. She always did.

As their mouths moved against each other, he felt her wrap her legs around his hips, grinding upwards into him. He could feel his head beginning to spin, his already throbbing erection hardening almost painfully against where they were pressed together. Breaking their kiss, he leaned back to push up her shirt, his shirt, taking in the view of her flushed chest for just a moment before moving his mouth to one of her nipples. As his tongue swirled around the already stiff peak and then nibbled gently at the sensitive skin, her body responded eagerly as she writhed beneath him. He brought one hand up to tease her neglected breast, while the other slipped down her stomach and into her underwear.

Shiva, how he'd missed her taste, the feel of her. The way she would bite her lip and the little noises she made, the stifled mewls that would escape her as she squirmed beneath him. Watching her body respond as he worked his hands and mouth against her was exhilarating. He would never tire of it.

As he continued to touch her, she pulled him back towards her for another kiss, her fingers straying towards his hips as she tried to inch down his underwear the best she could given the angle. He separated from her momentarily to shrug off his boxers as she shimmied out of her own underwear. When she moved to slip her shirt over her head, he took hold of her wrist to stop her.

"Leave it on," he breathed, his face reddening slightly at the request, as simple as it was. There was just something about the look of her in his clothes that did something to him. She shyly complied, laying back down on the bed as she spread her legs, inviting him in.

The feeling of being inside her once again was so overwhelming that he needed a moment to reorient himself, burying his head into her shoulder and taking a calming breath. Tifa must have understood what he was feeling as her fingers settled into his hair, stroking his head as her lips pressed against the side of his temple. Once he regained his bearings, they began to move together, slowly at first but then more urgently. Her legs wrapped around his middle, her nails raking down his back as she arched into him, trying to find an angle that delivered friction where she needed it the most.

Balancing on one elbow, he moved one hand to her breast, tweaking a nipple between his thumb and index finger. At that, she bit her lip and let out a sound between a moan and a whine. For a moment, he thought about how maybe he should tell her to keep it down, that the kids and Yuffie were asleep just down the hall. But it had been so long since he'd heard that sound from her; he needed to hear it again. To know that she needed this as much as he did.

With his next thrust, he pressed down and upwards against her, which earned him a needy whimper. So he did it again.

"Like that," she pleaded. He readily complied, focused on maintaining the rhythm of his thrusts as he watched the mounting pleasure playing out across her features.

The sound of her gentle sighs filled his ears, his gaze focused on the hypnotic bouncing of her breasts as he moved in and out of her. It didn't take much longer for her breathing to become unsteady and for her hold on him to tighten until he inevitably felt her pulse around him. Slowing down the speed of his thrusts, he placed gentle kisses against her temple as she rode out her orgasm, her lips desperately finding his. When her breathing returned to normal, he slowly worked up his pace again until he felt that familiar coil tightening in the pit of his stomach, Tifa urging him along as her hands explored his body and her teeth tugged at his ear. It wasn't long before he came and collapsed on top of her, their skin sliding together easily with the sweat and heat of their joined bodies. He regained his bearings to the feeling of her fingers combing through his hair and the sound of whispered praise in his ear.

They settled beside each other, Tifa tucked into his chest, her legs thrown over his. Cloud wrapped his arms around her, trying to bring her as close as possible against him. A part of him worried that if he fell asleep, that the day would turn out to be a dream. That he'd wake up at the church, still ridden with geostigma, still separated from Tifa. And he didn't know if he could deal with losing her again.

As her hand came to rest against his chest, their eyes met, and he felt something constrict in his chest at the smile she was giving him. No matter how many times she tried to convince him of the contrary, he still knew that he was undeserving of her. Of her infinite patience and kindness, and the way she seemed to still love him unconditionally despite his many shortcomings and the times he'd failed her. More than anyone else, Tifa deserved the best of what life had to offer, but she inexplicably chose him, time and time again.

Cloud leaned in to kiss her, his voice just above a whisper. "Thank you. For everything."

That smile was still on her face as she reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing delicately against his skin. "Thank you for coming home."

Home. For so much of his life, he had drifted from town to town, never able to stay in one place for long before he was forced to leave. Whenever he thought he'd finally found somewhere to call home, it was ripped away from him–either through the actions of others, or because of his own failings.

The truth was that home had never been a physical place. Because all that mattered was Tifa, his only constant in life, no matter how far he traveled, no matter how many challenges the world sent his way. Wherever Tifa was, that was home. And it always would be.

Notes

A big thank you to the Final Heaven and Once Upon a Star discord servers for being so welcoming and supportive to this Cloti newbie. And a special thank you to Somebodys_Nightmare, Jetta, Kiki, and my friend melkechi (who got me into FF7/Cloti in the first place) for looking over this fic in advance! 3

This community is so full of amazing people and talent, I can barely handle it. Hope you enjoyed my humble offering to the fandom. I hope to be able to upload some more Cloti soon. I am in love with this couple and their backstory.

You can follow me at xVieBoheme on Twitter to see me scream about my favorite ships.