Auron doesn't bother questioning Tidus, and he doesn't instruct him when he feels his curious fingers probing at his sides. They only stop searching once they've touched the bindings holding his armor in place. He allows him to unfasten it without any aid, following his smile with his eye; following the patterns on the last little bit of clothing covering his body with his fingers; his hips don't rise to meet the hips weighing his down, but he travels the hem of his jammers like a path around his waist.

The joint of his little finger brushes against lean stomach before he takes the elastic between his fingers and pulls it taut between his legs.

"I wonder."

If he told him he already was...

But he won't.