[ He may have tried to be a little smooth. For once. Aerith knows how to get the best kind of performance out of him. But in that performance is something altogether genuine - even despite the powerful effects the stardust might have had on both of them.
His back hits the wall, pinned against there by Aerith, and she devours him - as she's only too right to do. He feels his hair get grabbed, and he locks in place, that ghostly half-smile of his an illusion in the dark of the room.
Every kiss she plants on him then just seems to make the contrast — between the heat all over, but the feeling of ice in his belly — all the fiercer. His neck cranes, his back strains and arches against the flat of the wall. A muffled little cry is half-moaned into Aerith's mouth. A spreading heat from each kiss that threatens to take him over. It's almost too much, how quickly she gets him going like that. It's hard to think about anything else when she's reaching to pull at the clasps and fasteners that will, quite literally and figuratively, cause him to come undone.
Of course, Cloud has never been one to just take things, even when he's up against the literal wall. Aerith might find hands slipping down to the hem of her dress, sliding under it as she brings herself close enough for him to get handsy again, hiking it up slowly as he does.
There's something about all this - an unknown but still sweet familiarity that seems to tug at him from afar. Of course, he has things in the present to be worried about - like Aerith's imminent access to a certain spot between his legs, so it only comes to him in brief pulses. But the well of that affection is so deep. It consumes him in ways he doesn't have words for, doesn't even have thoughts for. A rushing river of longing and desire finally breaking to the surface.
He's caught up in all of it. Carried away by desires much stronger than he's ever had before. ]
[it gets nsfw from here on out, folks]
His back hits the wall, pinned against there by Aerith, and she devours him - as she's only too right to do. He feels his hair get grabbed, and he locks in place, that ghostly half-smile of his an illusion in the dark of the room.
Every kiss she plants on him then just seems to make the contrast — between the heat all over, but the feeling of ice in his belly — all the fiercer. His neck cranes, his back strains and arches against the flat of the wall. A muffled little cry is half-moaned into Aerith's mouth. A spreading heat from each kiss that threatens to take him over. It's almost too much, how quickly she gets him going like that. It's hard to think about anything else when she's reaching to pull at the clasps and fasteners that will, quite literally and figuratively, cause him to come undone.
Of course, Cloud has never been one to just take things, even when he's up against the literal wall. Aerith might find hands slipping down to the hem of her dress, sliding under it as she brings herself close enough for him to get handsy again, hiking it up slowly as he does.
There's something about all this - an unknown but still sweet familiarity that seems to tug at him from afar. Of course, he has things in the present to be worried about - like Aerith's imminent access to a certain spot between his legs, so it only comes to him in brief pulses. But the well of that affection is so deep. It consumes him in ways he doesn't have words for, doesn't even have thoughts for. A rushing river of longing and desire finally breaking to the surface.
He's caught up in all of it. Carried away by desires much stronger than he's ever had before. ]