[Hey, true, but also rude, somehow? He huffs irritably, not at all truly bothered, and squeezes his wrist just once.]

Nevertheless . . .

[The fact remains: he's overdressed, and right now that seems a grave crime. With an enormous sigh, he releases his hand-- and then, further, sits up. Not quite dislodging Lorenz's other hand, but also now he can work on shirt buttons himself. And does, slender fingers swift in tugging at Lorenz's belt buckle, his shirt, eager to at least make him a disheveled, half-dressed mess.]

I enjoy hearing you speak of it. What you like, and why you like it. Baths or lingering in my bed or whatever else you imagine.

And given you enjoy speaking, I suspect it works out for the both of us.

[He smirks at that, just a little.]