His breath came faster, a visible rise and fall beneath his shirt. He felt somehow exposed standing up on the bench that way. It was more exciting than unpleasant. He bit his lower lip as he watched her, her pale hands showing up well against his clothing in the moonlight. It was more than she had been able to explore him with both of them seated closely.

"I will if I have to," he agreed. He wasn't so stubborn or proud that he would risk falling on her. If he truly couldn't hold his weight, he'd change positions before it reached a critical point of no return.

The muscle fluttered slightly beneath her touch, small twitches that weren't quite flinches. She was treading a fine line between stimulation and tickling. He nodded, reaching down to take the hem in his hands and tug the shirt over his head. He offered it to her silently to be set aside, worried that if he dropped it from that height it would catch enough wind to land in the water.