[Hank has to sit down on the couch when Connor goes to change. Or — he doesn’t have to, but god is it easier on his nerves. Connor seems happy to show his clothes off, but...? Hank can’t help but feel a little greedy.

Whatever. Connor’s coming back out so Hank stands up, hand on his chin. Appraising.]

Well, look at you, Con. I like the — [everything? How does he say that without sounding weird?] — the whole ensemble you’ve got going there.

[Yeah, that works.]