Detlef's not wrong. He's cute, there's been plenty of opportunity. If they were talking about how many laps he's sat on or how many cheeks he's kissed, fifty would be... somewhere around there. Maybe a bit low, honestly.

Faro gives a one-shouldered shrug, cheeks dimpling as he tries to reign in his grin. More flattery, but it's funny flattery, not the kind that's phrased purely to get his clothes off. Cute is practically chaste as far as compliments go.

"I am cute, but I also stammer and..." And, hey. Actually, he hasn't stammered. Not much, anyway. That's a sign of how easy it is to relax around Detlef that its like his mouth forgets to fumble. "You're cute, too, and plenty of people ppass through here. Is fifty a fair guess for you?"