At this juncture, it is not as though he has not been naked in front of this man. So it's strange that a few simple things can change the atmosphere so much as to leave him feeling a little rudderless. The moody darkness. The feeling of newness on your skin after a fresh bath. The brush of silk over bare, sensitive bands of flesh. The contrast of one of them being far more cloaked than the other.

Even the way the Dark Urge fills the full tract of his senses and won't let him avoid his gaze in a way that leaves him blinking more.

"No. Just...treading unfamiliar water, I suppose."

And that's more than once tonight that he's caught himself not thinking of important possible consequences until the moment it is really too late to do anything about it. That's a failing on his part that he can't afford to take lightly.

"You didn't remain long enough to have seen last time." And he only loses his eyes because he's using them for direction. A hand traces near one of his hips and the larger finger marks there.