[Just lightly. Ever so lightly. The same way he lightly crosses his arms about the other's slender waist, and lightly lowers his head to inhale more of his lovely, lovely scent by shoving his head against the crook of his neck. What did the guy even use. He had no idea- but Six- it was addictive.]

Can't help it. You're even hotter when you cook.

I won't fuck you up. Or distract you. Promise. And look. If any oil spits up, it'll get me, not you.

[As if to illustrate his (terrible?) point, he's going to cross both huge, tattooed forearms over Ignis' chest. See?]