[Wow, please respect his compulsion to talk all the time, thanks. He hums, free hand sliding to Fenris' knee and inching higher as Fenris makes hasty work of his clothes. His shirt was already a touch disheveled from Fenris being on top of him, but please, make a mess of him. He'll huff about it later, as is tradition.]

Now, now— don't be smug.

[But do, actually. And mind his buttons, etc.]

You are positively radiant in the water. And elsewhere, of course, but— topically. To say nothing of the sheer indulgence of it! A sweet scent for the water, and skin against skin— I would be a fool to turn my nose up at it.

[He's penciling it in mentally for what to do after they argue about paints for an afternoon, yes, excellent.]

And I rather enjoy washing your hair.