If Silver hadn't been holding the sword as well, Benedict would have certainly let it clamor to the floor. The moment he feels the touch to his chin - surprisingly gentle for a man that's meant to be the scorn of the English Navy - his breath leaves him, and then there's the press of lips to his own.

It's a very strange sensation to be kissing a man for the first time. There's the scratch of facial hair against his own smooth face, lips not quite as soft as a woman's and more firm in their press. Benedict immediately decides he likes it, so he turns to angle his body towards Silver, pressing a hand to Silver's thigh for lack of anywhere else to put it.