Georg turns to straddle the bench as well, his thighs bracketing Alfred's so he can sit closely. To let Alfred touch him as he pleases. He holds very still as the boy does so, stiffening ever so slightly when Alfred's fingers near his collar and relaxing when they move away again.

"I suppose I never truly let myself think about how I look very often. Or how I feel, to that point. I don't... care for myself. Not like Herbert does. Perhaps I ought to." Though his tone is still tentative. Unsure of whether or not he's worth such things. Deserving of them.