He kisses Tidus again, but it isn't to placate him. Perhaps there are still things that he wants as well; since his life left him outside Bevelle he'd stopped giving name to the things he would've wanted before. Even now, he can't envision a future of his own making. The future isn't for him. It's one of the things that's separated the two of them, undoubtedly. Where Tidus is young, and bright, and full of all the potential of a brightening sky, or an open, outstretched hand, Auron is his opposite. Maybe he's not even that. He has nothing ahead of him. His story is already over.

This isn't for him. And yet, despite everything he knows to be true, he still has the ability to feel. The weight on his legs is just one proof.

The way Tidus's soft breaths twist his gut is another.

There's no hesitation when he grants him the kiss that he's seeking, his good eye shut, chin angling when he presses harder and opens his mouth to the plush lips under his own. He pulls his right hand away from around his body to leave his haori a red pool of fabric shrugged off on the bed. His eye opens a sliver, but he can only see the sweep of his eyelashes, the tawny flush of exertion on his cheek. Instead of trying to look properly, he grabs the back of his suspenders and tugs at them so the straps press at the crooks of his elbows and his belt falls fully open.

He can't take it off until he cooperates.