no subject

[She has a point about the other men in the club without their shirts and she's asking him nicely. As much as he doesn't want to feel uncomfortable, he also knows that despite the instinct to layer up, there's nothing wrong with his chest, despite a few scars and the bullet scar on his bicep. He lifts his arms and lets her push the shirt up, though, letting it ruffle his hair as he tugs it off, tucking it into the back of his trousers as he shakes his head, giving her a rueful look.]

Only because you want me to.

[He feels like he needs to make that clear, even as he now stands a head above the crowd, shoulders hunched forward a little, like he's not sure how to move, especially now that he hasn't got a shirt on.]