It does, weirdly, help it be less distasteful to have proof for himself that it goes both ways. That it's mutual. Although Gregor is starting to second guess that with how it feels to follow direction and seat himself, suddenly confronted with the reality that he's boxed himself into a corner in which Simon Illyan is going to give him a hickey. He habitually quashes the urge to fiddle with his cuffs.

God. No more talking about the political realities or their goals with this. With mild sarcasm to distract himself, "I don't know why we can't just neck while we have all of our security briefings. Our priorities have been totally askew."