[The combination of both of these—compliment and observation—is disarming, upending, and for a moment he simply stares down at the cup of salad stabilized carefully on his thigh. He's heard it before. His appearance has earned plenty of attention in the past, but never so sincerely stated, never from a man he's kissed. Has kissed him. And then the fact that Cy has noticed something as subtle as a preference when his own mind struggles to hold onto so much.

Sasuke's chopsticks hover, head tilted down. Some pink color rises at the back of his neck and tips of ears. He's... touched, by both, and the sentiment is like a dull ache after how they'd last ended things apart by his request.]

You can't change the rules only to suit yourself. [Yes, apparently there are rules.] ... I do like tomatoes. So you weren't wrong.

[will he ever stop being perceived]

Have you finished your guitar?