[A lot tricky, yes. Because with Ignis, it's not really a matter of being worried about catching a knee, a foot, or an elbow should he piss him off. (Even if once or twice he has, and the other man's strength certainly isn't insignificant. He's as fast as a couerl, and just as painful.) Instead, it's a matter of feelings, and to be frank, Gladiolus often found himself caring- more so than what he'd cared for anyone, really- about how Ignis thought of him than much else.

... So this was what it was to be whipped. Anyone else, he'd do what the hell he wanted. This was different. Really different. The fact it didn't piss him off probably made him even more whipped.

He holds the draw open and steps aside, allowing Ignis to choose a knife suited for deboning and skinning meat first. Then he gets his own- working to chop up some peppers, mushrooms, onions, and all the rest actually pretty competently. He couldn't cut as finely or as quickly as Ignis- but he did a decent enough job. Kind of had to. He'd often cooked for Iris at the times their father had been away.]

Yeah?

[He asks, looking over.]

We should cook for Iris too then, even if she heats it up later. If she finds out any sweets you've made for her have been eaten, she's gonna be pissed otherwise.