[ -- Absinthe grunts, the grip on Emet-Selch's tie tightening at the tug. when the other man's grip loosens he chuckles, low, and resumes his work in getting the tie off, not able to return his gaze while he's focused on doing that. ]

You don't expect ... I'll perform tonight? Or is it more of a challenge?

[ he pulls the tie free after it's undone. he doesn't seem to care in particular about keeping it nice and folded, tossing it towards the bed. ]