[ he definitely does take brief note of the lump in ren's jacket and makes the quick assumption that it's the box of cards he seems to never be without. the care taken to do so kind of affirms that. ]

No, never - they don't really exist unless they're man made in like. Some hotel or whatever.

[ there's a soft whisper somewhere against the nape of his neck, warm like summer on some arboreal planet, the rustling of the leaves on the tree branches bringing him to huff slightly and let his jacket drop into his hands. he doesn't fold it half as neatly, merely draping it over his arm and then draping it over that again to create a kind of lump, setting it down away from the water along with his gun and holster.

that works.

the fact that ren's looking at him now rather pointedly as he unbuttons his shirt brings him to stare back with a semi deer in the headlights look. he's not shy but he is

definitely not used to this. out in the open. so when his shirt comes off, it's pulled haphazardly over his head, sliding down his arms and revealing a vastly different landscape. juno's hands are scarred up, sure, and his forearms are sometimes privy for the view of some if he's dropped his jacket off, but the rest of his body is a veritable road map of where he's been - an errant knife, a laser burn. there's half a moment's worth of hesitation as the balmy air hits his skin before he gives the shirt a haphazard toss to the side to join his coat. ]

So what, you like do this all the time back home?

[ god he's hot and it's taking ever ounce of his nerve to not find some way to cover his face that feels like it's burning down his neck. ]