Cid kisses slowly, gently, brushing his tongue against Barnabas’ lower lip. It’s a question, unassuming and warm, before it is withdrawn again as quickly as it comes.

His other hand twitches in his lap. He wants to take Barnabas in his arms, he wants to press the issue, he wants to yell and interrogate-

But he wants this, quiet and simple, like a dream he’d never dared to have.