"At least you're lighter now than you'd usually be," Sawyer points out, pursing his lips and hesitantly getting into place. Something about the remark makes him genuinely hesitant, convinced that Porthos wouldn't make light of his abilities unless there really is something that he's lacking in. Porthos doesn't really strike Sawyer as the self-abasing type, after all.

But then again, he's probably danced with worst.

"Let's have it, then. I'll count slow, alright? And five, six, seven, eight..."