[ The moment the final word flies past his lips, doubt niggles away in his belly, a deep uncertainty about whether offering was even the right thing to do. She needs someone to help her and that fact is immutable and unchangeable, no matter what either of them wishes, to the point where he fears she might take anyone at all eventually, regardless of what her normal self might want. The logic is sound, true, but still– he worries, the idea of forcing his budding interest on her sharply distasteful.
But that flicker of anxiety only lasts a few heartbeats— stil an eternity by his estimation— before the firm grip on his hand squeezes firmer and their noses press against one another. It’s enough to make his breath catch, teeth gently biting the inside of his cheek, as the anticipation swells in his chest and his gaze drinks in every fine detail it can find of her expression— the emotions brimming in her eyes, the way her lips curve and press, the gentle flush that somehow only makes what beauty she already possesses feel that much more vivid— as she says the things he secretly wants to hear most in that moment.
His lips want to curve in that broad, beaming way he’s sure she’d think foolish— he’s been called that before— in the wake of that brief kiss. They tingle pleasantly, greedy for more of the soft warmth of Tifa’s lips, greedy for countless more kisses. Later, though, he thinks, even as she leans forward and his heart beats a little faster. ]
It’s more than okay. [ Instead, his smile is easy and gentle, voice soft as he tilts his head up and stamps another kiss against the shallow curve of her forehead. All that burgeoning desire— that part of him that wants to forget where they are and strip every scrap of clothing off her, that needs to know if her mouth is every bit as sweet as he dares to hope, that wonders if she’ll fit as perfectly in his arms and around his cock as fervently wishes— he stuffs away for the moment, head dipping down in a quick, decisive nod. ] I’ll take you back to my suite— it’s not as close as you’d like, but— just hold back, yeah? However bad it gets, I’ll make you feel so much better soon.
[ Their silent reverie breaks in that moment, shattered as he leans back— twists about, really— and slips out of the bar stool. The noise of the bar is a low hum, but suddenly, his perception sweeps over the room, acutely aware of every gaze in the bar and how many are directed their way. Sanji doubts anyone realizes what’s happened— or even wants to take advantage— but it still feels like his responsibility to ensure nothing happens, to make sure she’s safe. Maybe there’s some lingering instinct from his time in the omegadome, some piece of him that remains protective when in the presences of those he feels some responsibility towards, but regardless, as soon as they’re back on their feet, weaving their way through tables and chairs and waiters and patrons, his hands releases hers only for his arm to wrap tightly around her shoulders.
It doesn’t truly even occur to him that something like that— tucking her against his side, arm holding her tight— might make her symptoms worse, the might sharpen her cravings or intensify her heat. He moves, and brings her with him, striking a balance between a quick pace and avoiding any unfortunate collisions. They pass out of the Red Cardinal into the twisting hallways and main corridors, his skin prickling with anticipation even as worry sits heavy in his chest as he sneaks sidelong glances at her, trying to keep an eye on how she’s doing.
A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and then they finally turn into the more residential section of the resort where the garish buildings and ornate decorations giveway to cabins and chambers and apartments, all of which have a single, simple door. They line the walls in droves, countless of them, as they venture closer and closer, lips pressed in a tight frown when he looks at her out of the corner of his eye. His steps slow just slightly as his arm squeezes tighter around pale shoulders, head tilted to brush a gentle kiss to her temple. ]
You okay, Tifa? [ The concern is real, sharp and present and warm, as he speaks, gaze watching her with that same intensity. ] Just a couple more minutes, okay? We’ll get you feeling better soon, lovely, promise.
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But that flicker of anxiety only lasts a few heartbeats— stil an eternity by his estimation— before the firm grip on his hand squeezes firmer and their noses press against one another. It’s enough to make his breath catch, teeth gently biting the inside of his cheek, as the anticipation swells in his chest and his gaze drinks in every fine detail it can find of her expression— the emotions brimming in her eyes, the way her lips curve and press, the gentle flush that somehow only makes what beauty she already possesses feel that much more vivid— as she says the things he secretly wants to hear most in that moment.
His lips want to curve in that broad, beaming way he’s sure she’d think foolish— he’s been called that before— in the wake of that brief kiss. They tingle pleasantly, greedy for more of the soft warmth of Tifa’s lips, greedy for countless more kisses. Later, though, he thinks, even as she leans forward and his heart beats a little faster. ]
It’s more than okay. [ Instead, his smile is easy and gentle, voice soft as he tilts his head up and stamps another kiss against the shallow curve of her forehead. All that burgeoning desire— that part of him that wants to forget where they are and strip every scrap of clothing off her, that needs to know if her mouth is every bit as sweet as he dares to hope, that wonders if she’ll fit as perfectly in his arms and around his cock as fervently wishes— he stuffs away for the moment, head dipping down in a quick, decisive nod. ] I’ll take you back to my suite— it’s not as close as you’d like, but— just hold back, yeah? However bad it gets, I’ll make you feel so much better soon.
[ Their silent reverie breaks in that moment, shattered as he leans back— twists about, really— and slips out of the bar stool. The noise of the bar is a low hum, but suddenly, his perception sweeps over the room, acutely aware of every gaze in the bar and how many are directed their way. Sanji doubts anyone realizes what’s happened— or even wants to take advantage— but it still feels like his responsibility to ensure nothing happens, to make sure she’s safe. Maybe there’s some lingering instinct from his time in the omegadome, some piece of him that remains protective when in the presences of those he feels some responsibility towards, but regardless, as soon as they’re back on their feet, weaving their way through tables and chairs and waiters and patrons, his hands releases hers only for his arm to wrap tightly around her shoulders.
It doesn’t truly even occur to him that something like that— tucking her against his side, arm holding her tight— might make her symptoms worse, the might sharpen her cravings or intensify her heat. He moves, and brings her with him, striking a balance between a quick pace and avoiding any unfortunate collisions. They pass out of the Red Cardinal into the twisting hallways and main corridors, his skin prickling with anticipation even as worry sits heavy in his chest as he sneaks sidelong glances at her, trying to keep an eye on how she’s doing.
A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and then they finally turn into the more residential section of the resort where the garish buildings and ornate decorations giveway to cabins and chambers and apartments, all of which have a single, simple door. They line the walls in droves, countless of them, as they venture closer and closer, lips pressed in a tight frown when he looks at her out of the corner of his eye. His steps slow just slightly as his arm squeezes tighter around pale shoulders, head tilted to brush a gentle kiss to her temple. ]
You okay, Tifa? [ The concern is real, sharp and present and warm, as he speaks, gaze watching her with that same intensity. ] Just a couple more minutes, okay? We’ll get you feeling better soon, lovely, promise.