Cloud doesn't think he's ever seen Sephiroth look like this, either - lighthearted and tender, no trace of menace or of melancholy. He reaches up to wrap his arms around Sephiroth's neck and tips his head up just enough to take the offered kiss, slow and languid, almost self-indulgent, but certainly not chaste. He feels like he has to bask in Sephiroth's affection as much as he can, for as long as he can, before whatever's happening here fades.