His fingers curled- one into the cushion of the loveseat, another into the chair's arm- as the boy touched him, as soft, young fingers moved over his length and he fought to keep his voice even. "Perhaps not as distant as you were." He admitted, fingers flexing before tightening further as he looked at the boy; lips full, pink, his eyes dark and the face so youthful. Wicked and youthful, a face that could go very far indeed. A powerful man within society, someone who had his fingers on the pulse of the Wizarding World's upper class. Or in the ministry, heading some sort of intelligence department. Yes, yes, that would be good. He could guide the young man in that direction, yes...
His breath caught in his throat, cock throbbing against the hand that encircled it, and he forced himself to speak again, "Certainly not that distant."