It's perhaps a point of data to speculate on later, even if Zechs' mind wants to circle around it now. It wouldn't surprise him if any or all of those answers were true, if Sephiroth's boasting was correct. Or if, perhaps, he'd endured something like Zechs had, and their techniques of medical surgery and healing surpassed his own reality's. It's difficult to say.

When they were in the mood to discuss war, regrets, and past challenges - perhaps he'd ask then.

Zechs waited patiently before Sephiroth pressed him against the wall once more. Only then did he reach out to run his hands over his chest again, this time exploring. He didn't forget the sound he'd made earlier - he thumbed his nipples again, his hands far more calloused than Sephiroth's seemed to be.

The touch to his dick had his hips twitching forward again. He's looking at those glowing eyes in the darkness, considering how to recapture their earlier intensity.

"What are you waiting for?" Zechs decided to bait him, a playful challenge. "If you're intending to wait until I beg for it, you should be advised I am rather patient."

Then why is he taunting him now to speed things along?