"God's thumbprint," Sven joked, rolling his eyes. That was a very religious way to put on airs about having powers. "Since luck's on your side, maybe you met me for a reason," he mused - his bicep brushing against Mark's own again, a little more pressure this time around.
Physical person? As the other sat and stretched, Sven's pheromones suddenly amped, more to his own reaction at the flat muscular stomach. They ebbed away slowly, just so Mark didn't think Sven was actually involved in it, his eyes looking beyond the other. He sat himself, close enough to lay his hand on Mark's leg if he wanted to, but didn't. Baby steps.
"I'm a big boxer, could spend hours at this ratty gym I know if my schedule allowed it. There's more to life than batting around a leather sac, though."