[ There's a roll of his eyes at the mention of Sylvain's ego being anything other than robust as they know it to be - or so he assumes it to be based on prior evidence - while he's still laughing, though that or Hilda's vice grip on the pillow doesn't dissuade him from trying to tug it away.

The prod she sends his way once her flushed face is revealed doesn't do it, but what she says does. Just probably not in the way Hilda would've hoped. ]

How's that supposed to work when we're already all in bed?

[ Naturally, this is said with all kinds of put upon innocence, including widening his eyes like he has no idea what she's talking about. Even if that wasn't the point at all of what he was trying to do, Claude's more than happy to play along with it for the sake of riling Hilda up a bit more. ]

Though now that you mention it, it would be a lot more comfortable to get out of these clothes. [ A beat purely for dramatic effect, then - ] And change into something else. Here, let's start with Sylvain.

[ That's enough for Claude to half-sit-up-half-roll-over to where Sylvain's lounging to tug at the other man's shirt to get rid of some more of what's still buttoned with zero hesitation. ]