Not Strong Enough
Realization hit him, and he yanked his leg back as if scalded. "Oh fuck," he burst out, composure crumbling. "Get your hands off me!"
The genie chuckled low, clearly entertained. "Ah, I see it now. You want me, but you're playing hard to get... all because of them." His fingers trailed away slowly. "So be it."
Fanfar sneered, trying to sound nonchalant, but he could not hide the nervousness in his voice. "Oh yes, you're... you're handsome, attractive, impressive. I mean, who wouldn't be impressed?" He hesitated, glancing sideways, and added dryly, "That is... except for Jazz. He'd probably look at you and shrug. Don't think anything impresses him."
The genie's eyes narrowed curiously. "Jazz?"
Fanfar forced a laugh, but it had an edge of defiance. "Yeah, Jazz! Do you think you're the only show in town?"
The genie's expression flickered, his smugness replaced by something darker as he leaned in, eyes glinting. "Then perhaps I'll just have to find out... what makes you tick."