“Dunking my biscuit, so it’s soft.” He takes a bite and hums in pleasure, a sound that abruptly recalls the noise he made when I slid my cock into him for the first time. I shift position to relieve the pressure on my dick.

“I can see that,” I say, returning to the conversation as doggedly as Endof keeps trying to murder his bedding. “I’m just unsure why you’re softening your biscuit in my milk.”

He takes another bite. “Crumbs,” he says through a mouthful of biscuit.

“Disgusting,” I say briskly, but it doesn’t entirely cover up my admiration.

He smiles at me. “Drink your milk,” he says, nodding at my cup. “And then to bed with you.”

“It’s nine thirty at night. I am not in an old people’s home or hospital.”

He wrinkles his nose. “And you’re telling me that because?”

“Because that is the only reason to go to bed at that time.” I tsk. “It is a slippery slope, Laurie. Within a few days of early bedtimes, I will be wearing trousers with an elasticated waist and being gratuitously rude to strangers.”

“I think you’re already at the latter stage, and at least you’ll never struggle with buttons.”

I watch him as he sips his drink. For someone so eager to extoll the benefit of an early night, he’s not heeding his own advice.

I move into the second stage of my plan as he puts his empty mug down. I drain my drink. It’s sweet and frothy and smells of cinnamon, and yes, it’s silky, damn him. “Come then,” I say and get to my feet.

“Come where?”

“Bed, of course.”

“Is this a sexual situation?”

I blink. “No.” I grimace apologetically. “I’m afraid I’m far too weary to get an erection tonight, Laurie. I mean, I probably could get one. I just lack the energy to do anything about it.”

“I bet you say that to all your twinks.”

“No.” I sigh happily. “It’s so nice to be friends with you, Laurie, at your age.” It’s the truth concealed in humour. With younger men, I have an image to maintain. I’ve never felt that with Laurie, and it’s one of the best things about being friends with him. I can admit to being tired and not feeling like sex.

He shakes his head. “I’m younger than you.”

“And you’re staying here tonight.”

His eyes are huge in his face. “I am?”

I nod. “Yes,” I say briskly. “I have things I wish to discuss with you about the book you made me buy, and it is Endof’s first night. He has grown tolerant of your presence and wishes you to stay here.”

“And you’re sure that’s Endof’s view?”

“Of course.” I head to my bedroom, aware of him trailing reluctantly behind me.