Author Notes: I have never played Final Fantasy VII before. The closest I've ever come to the game is watching Advent Children and currently playing Crisis Core. I'm normally all for canon-pairings, but seeing as FF7 doesn't have a definitive choice between Cloti or Clerith, I guess moving slightly askew with a Tiffus (that is what the cool kids call it right?) will hardly be frustrating. So couple both my lack of knowledge in the game, and also out-of-canon pairing, this may not to be some of your liking. Additionally, because of the points stated above, this fic may seem rushed, characters not entirely in-character, and general ambiguity. But, I feel if I extended this more than what it is, I would wind up with that outcome anyway.

I have two prompts for this fic, one of them being from my good friend Missyluv who (I hope she doesn't make mince meat out of me for this) quoted in regards to pairing Tifa with anyone but Cloud: "Reno, Rude, Rufus, Reeve and Vincent... the possibilities are endless!". So, I chose Rufus to pair with Tifa (added fact being he's the cutest of all the men, teehee), and thus Aerith's comment regarding Rufus 'I heard no one has ever seen him bleed or cry' just tempted me further.

Either way, set after the events of Advent Children. Tifa and Rufus are somewhat already "acquainted". Enjoy. :)

~:~ Guilty Pleasures ~:~

Or,

~:~ The Sorrows of Rufus Shinra ~:~

Rufus Shinra stirred in bed, his left arm aching from some unknown weight that was preventing his blood circulation from properly functioning. He tried prying his arm away, but felt the silkiness of hair rub against it and instantly his mind recollected the jagged pieces of last night's events.

He wanted to shoot his eyes open, to turn to his left and look at his prized possession lying on the other side. But the desire of dissecting every steamy memory from the previous night up to the point where he woke up in bed was greater. Flashes of chronological images swarmed his mind in one go; flirtatious looks across her bar, rummaging impatiently in the back seat of a car, hasty kisses in a secluded elevator, until finally pinning her down onto his bed until he heard her confess she reached heaven, before descending down in bliss.

He couldn't deny access to the jubilant smirk dying to adorn his face, knowing all too well that he succeeded in seducing one of the most attractive young women he had met in his life. Not only that, but the sheer reaction she gave to his performance last night, he knew she would want more.

Allowing his eyes to finally open, he glanced sideways to find her sleepy-faced; a thin satisfied smile still plastered across her face, if that was even possible. Maybe she was envisioning their passionate love making in her dreams? Or maybe the pleasure was still running through her hot-blooded veins. Whatever the reason, her contentment was boosting his ego.

Turning to her, Rufus placed a finger on her delicate cheek, brushing away strands of her dark hair, pushing it behind her ear and leaving not only her face exposed, but also a large portion of her slender neck, which concurrently had his eyes deviate down to her half uncovered breast. Well, if she could thrash about below him in uncontrollable ferocity, no doubt her sleeping mannerisms would be any different.

But even though he liked reminiscing over his own dominance, her ability to please him was of equal measure. No other woman was able to arouse emotions rooted deep within him like she had. No other woman had made him feel on the verge of diving off an emotional cliff. She made him feel as if he had achieved the unachievable. It was the accomplishment of cracking her outer shell; the appearance of a sturdy, bold and quite frankly her ability to slaughter just about anything with her fists (as apprehensive as that little thought tugged at his mind every time her hands roamed his lower body), and finding a dependent, vulnerable soul strongly susceptible to his ardor.

Taking his finger off her cheek, he slowly trailed it down to her neck, past her shoulder and down to her elbow. She stirred from the featherlike touch, pulling in a shuddering breath through her parted lips as his finger moved closer to her chest causing her eyes to open. His finger remained stationary as he smiled at her warmly. Her puffy eyes frowned at him, not quite conscious nor remembering what she was doing in bed with him. He watched as she studied him further, focusing on his smile until her own lips cracked into a shy smirk and she instantaneously scooted closer toward him, covering her exposed areas and shoved her head into the crook of his neck. Her modesty was strangely foreign compared to the receptivity she showed hours ago.

"Morning Tifa," he sweetly cried, hoping to eradicate any embarrassment on his part.

"Morning," her cracked voice whispered, moving her head up to look at him cheekily.

They both looked at one another, awkward shy smiles, eyes lingering over their half-naked bodies, both unsure of how to broach the subject. He couldn't help his desire to ask her how she felt, how much she had enjoyed last night, though he doubted her answer would be contrary to her earlier breathless cries.

"Last night was fun," Tifa teasingly stated, cutting the older man from his thoughts.

"It definitely was. You were amazing," he obligingly commented, hoping to prompt a series of compliments.

"You too…" she replied. Immediately he grinned at her, his insides bursting with confidence. Yes, he had bedded the beautiful, strong and charismatic Tifa Lockhart. If that wasn't something to gloat over, well then nothing would ever come as close.

They looked into each other eyes in silence, dark wine coloured orbs meeting with hazy blue, not quite sure what to say to one another. It felt surreally comfortable to be lying in each other's arms, unclothed with only a bed sheet to assist their new found bashfulness.

Tifa's eyes were the first to deviate, casting a concentrated look at Rufus's broad shoulders, as she pressed her lips together in contemplation.

"I should go," she whispered solemnly.

"Five more minutes." He held onto her tightly hoping to persuade her, hoping other parts of his body would help to convince her as they awakened.

She let a breathless chuckle loose, rolling her eyes at him and running a hand through his silky blond hair. "They'll be wondering where I am."

"Just a little longer," he whispered pleadingly.

Her eyes remained downcast, nervous about what she uttered next, "If they find out I'm with you, they'll be mad…"

"Oh…" he whispered, more to himself than to her.

"It'll take some time, but for now we should just keep this between us." Tifa smiled at him sympathetically, squeezing his cheek in comfort. "Once the town's rebuilt, I'm sure they'll all forget and move on. But right now, there's too much negativity surrounding you and Jenova, I guarantee no one will be head over heels about us."

"I guess not." He sighed as she pushed herself away from him, his left arm being tickled by pins and needles now that his circulation was intact, wrapping her side of the shared bedsheet around her waist and picking up her clothes off the floor. He watched her silently as she put on her skirt, her white blouse and threw her black waist coat back on.

She brushed her fingers through her long black hair and smiled at him as he continued to lay in bed, too stubborn to face the reality that she was leaving.

"Come by the bar from time to time, the more they see you around, the more used to you they'll get," she suggested as he nodded at her willingly. "I promise I'll see you soon."

"You better, otherwise I'll spend sleepless night crying for you," he teased with a smirk.

"You, cry? I'd like to see that," Tifa sarcastically remarked. She remained in her spot, cocking her head to one side and looked at him tenderly, "You know the first time we met you, Aerith had heard that no one had ever seen you bleed or cry."

Rufus smirked amusedly while furrowing his eyebrows. "Everyone bleeds and cries; it's what makes us human. I just don't expose my wounds."

Tifa nodded her head in understanding walking around the bed until she was on his side, and bent down, pushing her long hair back and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. Cupping his cheek in one hand, she heard him sigh into her before she broke away, remaining positioned just above his face and looking deeply into his eyes.

"Sometimes exposing your wounds is the only way to show people you've changed."

Her words sliced into him, piercing his ego, his pride and chastising himself in humbleness. He did feel remorseful, but after all these years, his reserved manner and hard exterior was difficult to shed. Outwardly apologising for his actions was challenging and often conflicted with his arrogant egotism. Even apologising for nearly having her executed was something he hadn't yet uttered.

"I'll see you soon," Tifa promised, straightening up and picking up her handbag. She cast him one final cheeky look before, opening his bedroom door and walking out. When the click of the lock of his apartment door was heard, confirming that she had indeed left, he closed his eyes in shame.

Regret. Remorse. Repentance. Guilt. Humbleness. Just a few of the things he was severely lacking… yet not completely. He did regret his actions and he truly wanted forgiveness. If not to be accepted by the others, but to at least show Tifa he was remorseful and tormented by what his own hands had nearly sent forth. His chest tightened just thinking about how close this moment wouldn't have come about.

Only five minutes ago he was relishing in the presence of the beauty that lay beside him. Five minutes of his life he wouldn't have seen if Scarlet had been successful.

Aerith, presumably among many others, had heard no one had ever seen him bleed or cry. His wounds weren't on display for the world to see. But if Tifa had stuck around for a minute longer… she would have been the first.

End Notes: Reviews for my first FF7 fic would be greatly appreciated.