Jag glanced around the room, smiled at the bed, and then focused back on Val. Especially when he grinned over at him and - yes, taking clothes off was a great plan. Jag pulled his long-sleeved tee and tank top over his head in one move, and dropped them on the floor, grinning over at Val, giddy with the joy of the moment. Val was there, and real, and they were doing this again. It felt too good to be true, but Jag was going to roll with it. He stepped closer to Val each time he raised a foot up to pull off a shoe, or a sock, and eventually reached him, shirtless and barefooted, unable to stop himself from reaching out, a hand smoothly traveling up his chest, gaze following that same path. Up his fucking gorgeous chest.