A huff of air, and then Anders is relaxing into the slow workings of Nate's fingers. He rests against that forehead touch, arms looping lazily around the archer. His voice is languid and warm; he's feeling languid and warm.

"The best, hm? Does that mean I can get another cat?" The smile on his face says he's teasing. "Though I'll allow that you could be calling yourself the best... and you could be correct." Nate's nose gets a gentle kiss. "Would be correct."