Benedict finds himself getting dressed reluctantly, though it’s obvious that Silver isn’t about to invite him for an afternoon cuddle and nap. Which is fine, really, but a man can hope.

Perhaps, he thinks, that Silver is just naturally a sort of flirt. It suits his charismatic nature well. Benedict is more than fine with looking at Silver while he stands there, looking like that.

“We’ll have to do it again some time. But perhaps without me making a fool of myself.”