Consider. Sokol tries a new drink and gets warm, super warm. A bit drunk (maybe a bit horny) and overheating, he starts taking his clothes off, and oh he is NOT the only one whos getting a bit hot. (Can also be used with Duke)
I am sorry for letting this sit in my Asks for an appalling amount of time heh heh
Sokol knows cultural stereotypes are dumb, but generally speaking he knows he can handle his drink just as well, if not better than most would assume of a Russian.
Maybe he overdid it during training or heisting that week, but Sokol's usual intake of alcohol felt far more potent than usual. He knew from the faint burning sensation that his cheeks were flushed & there was a 50/50 chance that he either looked effortlessly young, pink and adorable, or like he was a teen raiding their parents' liquor cabinet for the first time, an unsteady mess that had gone too far too fast and was racing towards vomiting in the toilet in the early hours of the morning.
One thing he knew for sure, though - he felt hot. His forehead was damp, and his clothes felt uncomfortable, stuck to his skin in uncomfortable and unflattering ways.
In his drink-addled mind - at that moment pleasantly fuzzy & relaxed, prone to silly thoughts & impulsivity - he decided to strip off a layer or two.
Wolf noticed first. He was animatedly re-telling some story, some tale of a heist gone wrong & weird in all the funny ways, & he stopped mid-sentence, taking in the younger man's exposed torso.
At Wolf's abrupt silence, Hoxton glanced over & noticed, too. "Nice tits," he quipped, which of course made everyone else look.
Ah. He hadn't meant to distract everyone from the story. But he did have nice tits. He squeezed his pecs together as best he could (Hoxton snorting loudly at how he missed at first, drink-addled brain affecting his hand-eye-tit coordination).
Of course, it was at that moment some of the others arrived.
Duke walked in to the common area, tumbler of whiskey in hand. His eyes fell on Sokol's half-naked form. "Oh my," he said, eyes glinting in amusement. Dallas averted his gaze as if the sight before him was appropriate only for the bedroom and nowhere else ("You're goin' red, mate!" Hoxton laughed, pointing at Dallas' half-hidden face, to which the mastermind replied with more than a hint of indignance, "I am not.")
"Would you care to explain why you took your shirt off?" Duke asked, sitting down beside Wolf and Hoxton on the sofa, sipping his drink.
Sokol finally let his hands fall from his chest, and gave a one-shouldered shrug.
"Yes. But why did you take your shirt off?"
