These days, Damen might crook a finger and Laurent would come to him, and his feet slide easily over the mats when Damen pulls him near. 'Yes, I see what you mean,' Laurent observed, parting Damen's knees so that he could sit atop one of his thighs, like a slab of marble beneath him.

'Quite soft.' He squeezed Damen's bicep next, then extended a prim finger to poke at Damen's chest. Had he done it any harder, he might have sprained the joint. 'You do need a good working.'