There's far too much clothing in London, Silver decides, and he's not so sure that it's just because it's fucking cold and dreary here. He's managed to twist his pants off easily, his belt and trousers clattering to the floor, and he pauses only to look at Benedict.

He's beautiful, pale and untouched, unspoiled by the horrors of the world and Silver fights the urge to even think he's something to be protected. This is a one night stand, most likely, which means Silver has one small window to absolutely wreck any chance of Benedict being able to think of anyone else in bed for a while.

He likes a challenge.

Silver doesn't bother to hide his grin, his look predatory as he begins trying to undress the other properly, letting his hand run down the other's bare skinn when he gets a glimpse.