Urquhart, propped up on his elbow, reaches out to touch Moist's face.

He likes the rough edges that he sometimes shows, sticking out from under the smooth polished exterior of the professional charmer. The broad pouty lower lip. The angular wrists, and the strength of his hands. The hint of stubble on his jaw, the tousled hair, the drifts of down on his arms, chest, belly.

His fingers slowly, gently follow where his eyes are trailing.