"It wasn't an order."

It could've been. But he doesn't have to listen to Auron, whatever his preference is. He doesn't address his offer for help. Instead, his hands go to his waistband, finally impatient enough to hook his thumbs beneath the elastic and peel it off without anymore half-measures, at least until his jammers get trapped around his thighs, spread legs impeding his progress. But he isn't covered anymore, and he tugs him down again, cock hot and heavy where it falls against his stomach.

One of his hands rests on his thigh, but the other strays back to his lithe waist, the bend of his knuckles dipping into his navel. It's deliberate when he keeps from touching him any lower, and he watches his face while he advances, brushing his bare hips instead, his tailbone.

Even though he's moved, Tidus's weight is still bearing down on his hips. The proof that this isn't one-sided is trapped underneath the curve of his ass. He's only surprised he hasn't said anything about it yet.

He's fine with that. Which, of course, means that it won't last.