Silver has promised Max he'd behave, which is exactly why he's not setting Benedict on his lap and running his hand through that short hair, savouring it, lips against the curve of his neck.

He wants to, though, and he's unafraid of the hungry look he gives Benedict. He wants a strong drink and a quick fuck, and he wants Benedict in both cases.

"There's always an excuse beyond the reason, Benedict." He doesn't seem like he's accusing Benedict of having ulterior motives--just that it's a fact of life, and he puts a hand on the other's hip idly, a small smirk on his lips.

"For instance, I'm here because Max apparently needed a gentleman escort, and the only one she could find was one with one leg. But I also came here to see you."