"It would hardly be the first time," Benjamin remarks wryly, and that, too, is the truth. Innocently, too, or at least mostly, because the pressure in his chest still makes an appearance now and then. Right now, it's not going anywhere, but he wraps the one hand around the mug, appreciating its warmth during the time it takes him to grab a white and a dark pawn off the board. Then he shifts one of them to his other hand, and holds both out, fists closed over the pawns, for John to choose.