The laughter was soothing to hear. It eased some knot of tension in his chest, some quiet lingering worry that he was misjudging everything and botching this evening.

Teasing was good. A bit of shame was fine. Overt shyness was not. Or maybe it was just distaste for the obvious shift in attitude. That had been a mistake. Most customers were content to ignore anything that seemed off if the situation was to their liking, but this one seemed more observant than that and less easily mislead.

"I'm not sure there's such a thing as too clever," Saralegui answered, smiling thinly. But he left his hands where they were, half-curled against the sheets, and turned his face against Tzilan's fingers in his hair. Let his lips brush just slightly against the skin but didn't kiss it, just let his breath ghost warmly over it.

"You like my hair," he said. Not a question at that point. "Is that something you were interested in...?"

Gods, he hoped not. A guest had wanted that once before, and Saralegui wouldn't soon forget the smell of it drying before he got to go wash, or the struggle to get it all out.