Cid raises his brows at Barnabas as he turns to look at him. Their faces are close like this, and the closeness hurts. He craves it often, even if it usually ends in barbed words and piercing looks.

Was there anything he could say to soften this?

Not likely.

Barnabas usually grew irate even with his presence. …But he’s the one who requested it. But they’re in public. What did any of this mean?

Cid’s hand stops before he removes it entirely from Barnabas’ back, his fingers hovering below his neck. He meets his gaze- though his body and soul had weathered, the keen look in his eye had not.

Cid leans forward, taking that silent signal at face value to press his lips against Barnabas’.