Cid readjusts himself as Vander puts an arm around his waist and shuffles the beer into his own hand. If he was gonna hold onto him so nicely, he hardly had to worry. He sips the beer and observes the other. He tucks his head under Vander’s chin, an echo of the man he is from the future wondering if he’d gone mad, or perhaps old seduction techniques he’d taught long ago were all coming out now in strange ways.

“I know my way around a sword alright,” he says placidly, tracing the scars. It was an understatement, but there was something understated about him.

He allows the other man to pick over his clothing- leather so dark that it was easy to miss that it was indeed entirely purple atop a shirt with the strings lazily left undone and exposing much of his toned chest. Up close, his sun spots and wrinkles were plenty apparent.

“…Did you get those before you got here?”