"I don't need any of those things." Lies. He looked to Roman again, gaze roaming before he turned back to his bag. No one really offers him anything, he doesn't give them the chance, not even antidepressants because he'd probably growl at them for it. As for smiles, do dry, short ones count that made him look constipated when they weren't wry and impish?

Another glance, this one leering at the other's face, caught by those emerald eyes again. "You'd be surprised," he offered in a low voice. His sex life was usually something he kept to himself, and not that he was traveling with Cora, pretty non-existent.