An eyebrow raises at the wiggle - he'd intended to move his hands back downward and slip them under his waistband to ask if he could take them off, but then he reconsiders.

His hands draw back and he moves Benedict's legs off his shoulders, then actually scoots back, back onto the pillow beside him. Returning to where he'd been sitting before, so close, yet so far away. He even reaches for the coffee he'd set aside and brings it to his lips, taking a sip.

"Strip for me." It's an order.