Yussa lightly bats Caleb's hand away as he cops a feel while helping. The gesture is more chiding than an actual expression of displeasure - if there is any doubt, a smile still hides in the curve of Yussa's lips.

He slips back into the camisole and absently casts prestidigitation again before putting the bloomers on. With Caleb's help, it's easy to get dressed. He likes the intimacy of the act, the way his lover's hands linger here and there, the way he stands closer than he needs to. He looks over his shoulder at the other man.

"I think I will. And no matter, we both know I prefer you out of them." Yussa lightly cups Caleb's chin before he drifts away to paw through all of Caleb's clothes. By the time Caleb returns, Yussa has picked out clothes that don't match his, per se, but there are elements that certainly compliment. As if they go together.