Something non-complicated would be fanciful, but it was hard to come by. Everything seemed complicated these days, but this? It was remarkably easy and comfortable when it had absolutely no right to be. Had Cid passed some type of Valentine's curse on him after leafing through all those papers? The better question was if he cared? Not particularly.

He huffed softly in amusement, shifting his head off of the top of Cid's crown of hair so he could lightly butt then rest his forehead against the other man's left temple. "Oh, that one was nothing. An old friend pinned me to a desk through the arm. It will heal. It always does," he remarked as if the tale was neither abnormal or anything he particularly worried about. His other forearm remained covered in a black leather brace, hiding the more unsightly scar from open view.

"Only if you show me yours," he replied, voice dropping to a sultry tone. "I expect we both have plenty of stories to tell."

This was what he earned for being isolated, lonely and grieving. He should have stuck with push-ups in his room.