The fabric is a little messy from the night's activities, being tossed aside or used as a sweat rag. John looks at Danny folding it, interested in the deftness of his hands, and doesn't give him the satisfaction of reaching for it — he'll walk home in just his boots if he has to, as cavalier as a native about his bare body.

"No," he admits, and his smile is friendly but his eyes are empty, nothing behind them. "Just thought you might like me to know it." Might want to stand out from all the other nameless folks he's messed around with tonight.