Genesis doesn't dare lean back, even if he checks over his shoulder. If he moves, the coat will obviously follow. Besides, "ah, not quite what I was after." The sangria he knows the effect of, he'd already had a bit during his separation from Sephiroth, confirmed by his idle chattering about.

So what the hell had gotten into Sephiroth to be so, well, infuriatingly seductive, with that dark tone?

"Mm, I'll worry about it later," he mutters, and noses against Sephiroth's neck. "Still just impressed you're so eager to have me like this, in a bar no less."