Taff's eyes may not have been pointed directly at Tristan as he undressed, but his brother's body was all he could see, focused out of the corner of his eye as he unzipped his jeans and shed them as he'd done with his shirt. Not simply watching was enough for Taff to pretend he wasn't watching, or that he wasn't thinking about his brother's body in ways he shouldn't. He found himself strangely self-conscious of his body, which was stupid, because Tristan had seen it a thousand times.
"Er," he said after a moment of simply standing before Tristan in his boxers. Realising there wasn't much he had to say he turned and climbed under the covers and into bed, rolling to the far side before turning back to face his brother.