Laguna leaned against Squall a little, solid, reassuring, an arm around his waist holding him close. It was dark, and below them, Esthar spread out over what Laguna knew was, effectively, his kingdom. Squall seemed unimpressed, but Laguna felt the warmth of his approval as much as he felt the warmth of their closeness.

"It's beautiful at night, isn't it? My city, I mean."

"Your city?" Squall asked, a hint of amusement flavouring his voice, and Laguna huffed softly, resting his chin on Squall's shoulder, enjoying the moment as much as he could. No doubt Squall would soon realise that he was too open, too comfortable, and would withdraw into his own little world, shutting Laguna out. No matter how long they spent together, how long their complicated relationship dragged on, Squall hid himself from Laguna, and there was nothing Laguna could do to stop that without pushing Squall away entirely.

He was happy to steal his moments, like this.

Sometimes, at night, he craved the closeness from Squall that Raine had given and that, because of all that had happened to him, their son was denied. Sometimes he got caught up in thoughts of what Raine might say, in the next life, and it was then that he wished Squall was open, affectionate, tender. But that would be to deny everything Squall had been through, and Laguna never wanted to demean that.

So he swallowed his misgivings and his stupid, muddled thoughts, and tried to be content with what they had.

"It is a beautiful place," Squall said, almost startling Laguna who, lost in thought, hadn't replied.

"Sometimes," Laguna said, feeling the old powerful feelings swelling up inside him again, the urge to wander, the urge to be lost in the city and anonymous. "Sometimes I want to go down there, go down there and not be recognised, see all my city without people polishing it up to make sure it looks good for their President. Sometimes I want to be someone else and go travelling again."

Squall nodded a little, taking in a deep breath, a long, soft rush of air. He let it out, his hand dropping from the railing of the balcony to the hand that hung unoccupied at Laguna's side. He laced their fingers together, clumsily, and Laguna held his breath, almost afraid to breathe in case it stopped Squall from doing the sudden, unexpectedly tender gesture.

He felt Squall squeeze his hand, and a silly little smile stole across his face at the touch and the soft words.

"I think that could be arranged."