[ Pestering Ruggie to the point of aggravation twists J's mouth into a grin of delight that crinkles the corners of pale eyes. It's the same joy as teasing a small pet, dangling a toy or small bit of thread within reach before yanking it away at the last moment. ]

If you're going to be formal about it, the proper way to address an archduke of Hell by anything but their initial would be Your Grace. [ ( As if that's remotely what Ruggie is trying to do with his snide retort. ) Regardless, initials were always preferred by those who held them, as saying a demon's name further solidified their continued existence. ]

But that'll work, too. [ Releasing those wonderfully soft ears, J directs his bullying to Ruggie's left cheek. The demon gives a gentle but undeniably condescending pat to the beastman's face, similar to the sort given when placating small children. ]

Now, then. What are you going to do about the mess you've made? [ There's a sweep of one hand toward the disaster that's befallen the now fur-caked jacuzzi. Meanwhile, J's tail loops around his stack of crisp, freshly laundered towels. They settle into empty arms that have finally stopped manhandling some portion of the other man, indicating he has absolutely no intention of helping with the cleanup. ]