[He's not altogether unsurprised by the fact that for a second, just one, Polnareff's teasing prompts an imperceptible, abrupt flash of bristling in the back of his mind. It's only to be expected, perhaps — what, no, that's mine, mine — but what proves to be optimistic is the subsequent fact that it's a feeling that also doesn't last very long.

And of course, once he gets past that kneejerk flash of possessive jealousy, he ends up thinking about Polnareff kissing Kakyoin, which by extension also leads to just thinking about kissing Kakyoin in general.

His hand is being gripped tight. It takes him a second, but then he grips right back, turning the hold almost into a contest of wills, a not-quite arm wrestle.]

Do it and I'll kick your ass.

[Which, of course, is approximately the sentiment Polnareff seems to be trying to convey in return, so it seems appropriate.]

...You'd think he'd taste like cherries but most of the time he doesn't. Unless he's just been eating them, I mean.