No matter how intent his focus or confident his approach, Martin still feels himself blushing a little. It's true, his particular fondness for John's hands usually takes center stage, while John's appreciation of his physicality is often more general than that. It's surprisingly nice to be on the receiving end, and were he less locked into his task here, it might make him falter. Instead, it's only the work of a moment to pull himself back together, drawing a breath and pressing down between John's shoulder blades, gently, slowly pushing out the lingering tension.

"Don't know about that," he says idly once he's let up. "I'm rather of the opinion you're at least as clever with yours. Don't know where I'd be without those fingers." He smirks, distantly surprised he's reached the point where he can talk around this subject so easily. "Considerably less satisfied on a regular basis, I suppose."