It’s the second part of the question that, despite all of Zechs’ attempts at self control, had him blushing fiercely, from his ears all down his neck. A shot from a hundred meters right into the heart of the target. And Sephiroth was right to call him out on it too, Zechs realized. Lorenz would’ve called him out far sooner.

But Sephiroth was new to - or likely was new to - the play aspect of this, so it’s unfair of Zechs to turn it into one, he told himself. He shook his head and met his eyes in the dark, taking a moment to bully his stubbornness into a single word - “Apologies.”

Not too stubborn to apologize. Too stubborn to admit - “I’m the first to say pride has no place here in this - and yet I cling onto it. It’s hypocritical.”

His hand on Sephiroth’s length has slowed, gentled, as he pressed the three fingers in as deeply as he could at this angle. He made a small, embarrassing sound as he’s stretched open. Showing very clearly he liked that sort of sensation. Zechs shook his head again. “Nearly ready.”