The kiss was a good one - brief, but familiar, implying that this happened more and at greater length when they didn't have other things to do. This was true; but Cecil liked implying it better than establishing the truth of the implication. There was much less that could go wrong there, emotionally.

"So!" he said brightly as they stepped apart, gripping Carlos' hand and taking the first steps into the museum proper. "I thought we could start in the modern sculpture section-- you know, the one with all the abstract furniture-- and then go through the pre-cataclysmic section right before lunch. Unless you'd rather see the latter first. I've just always liked these chairs they have-- like, they look like they're covered in eyes, and the eyes follow you around the room-- it's really cool."

This was how people on dates behaved-- they talked about mostly meaningless things, and exchanged a lot of light physical contact, and acted happier about each other's company than about any many-eyed chairs they had come to see. Cecil was, therefore, behaving exactly like a person on a date.