The gentle lift of his shoulder, timed with the upward curl of his mouth and downward turn of his eyes - almost ashamed or sheepish, if it weren't for that faintly wicked smirk - did nothing to suggest he was adverse to such coyness. He leaned against the heavy bag, one hand curling up around the top to hold onto it so he didn't just fall over when it moved. Though he wasn't entirely certain what made him so interested or intrigued at that particular moment in time, none of this seemed like a bad idea to the blond. Even though he was well aware she could probably kill him before he blinked if he said the wrong thing.

"Oh, you know - stress can be worked off in similar ways. Just as exhausting, if you're doing it right, but much less enjoyable by yourself. Unlike punching things, which is just fine by your lonesome," he responded, fluttering his free hand as he twisted a little, leaning into her space just a little bit more. His smirk was almost a leer, but somehow a bit more classy than that.