Take a picture, Prompto. The glare would last longer that way. It probably did not help that his hair was already a mess from their little rumble. Yet, the way those hands slid down his chest to his stomach...

Six damn it all.

"Yeah, you better." He sat up, then. Half tempted to do something about it, but then... nah. Probably the best to not. Especially on Ignis' little inner sanctum.