"A president? Huh." Vrenille wasn't expecting Ben to say that either. "It's lucky, keeping your family like that." And he doesn't expand, but he knows from experience. He'd lost the last member of his own family before he was ten.

"And it's kinda my job to be accepting," he smiles. There's a light bit of humour, or at least irony, in his own life trajectory and he knows it. "Or, well...I guess you'd say when I got here I made it my job--sex therapist. The accepting part was sorta core to my hustle anyway."

That's also why he's absolutely considered the possibility that Ben will end up with someone older. Hell, it might even be him. Not that he has any designs to get him into bed right now, and not that the age gap between them isn't substantial, but this place is what it is: sex is required of every LIER, age notwithstanding, and Vrenille knows he can give a guy a good first time; he's done it often enough.

For now though, the question is still marginal in his mind, and when Ben pulls the back of his collar down, his attention is squarely on what's revealed. There's no recoil, no wince, no shying away. Instead he takes a step closer, lifting a hand towards the collar of Ben's coat to pull it back and see better, but giving a clear indication of what he intends, and only reaching out if Ben's body language gives the go-ahead.

"Do they hurt?" His brow furrows slightly, because honestly, they look like they must hurt.