It hasn't escaped Auron's notice, but he doesn't comment, his preference instead to watch Tidus's impatient advance, turning his head aside when he circles around to situate himself behind him. The bed creaks with their shared weight. The way he grabs at him with his hands tells him what he needs to know about why he continues to get upset with him, even as he acquiesces. His hand he lifts to touch the back of Tidus's wrist, still watching while he puts his mouth to his skin.

Tidus is no stranger to an audience.

And he does know why he keeps getting that look on his face, the one that makes him seem younger, even, than he already is. It's what motivates him to turn sideways in his arms, slipping his own arm between their bodies to bend around his side and hedge him in. He presses him close with his hand on his back, right below his shoulder blades and beneath the criss-cross of his loosened suspenders, bare skin under his fingertips.