A flicker of something unfamiliar flares up in Cloud's chest when Sephiroth expresses approval of his agreement. Something a little bashful, a little pleased, a little eager? Like he wants more of that approval, somehow.

His opportunity comes soon enough. That hot, wet mouth takes him in again and this time, he doesn't try to hold back the soft sound that comes out with his somewhat breathless sigh. Little rolling waves of sweet pleasure wash over him as he steadily hardens further against Sephiroth's tongue, letting quiet gasps and whimpers out on each exhale. He doesn't have the presence of mind to stop his hips from occasionally jerking upward to chase more, as his hands grip - and crush - the flowers beneath him and his toes curl inside his boots.