"Lumiere, really. This again?"
Lumiere grinned rakishly. He held a long taper candle in one hand, illuminating the interior of the canopy bed on which they rested. "You 'ave a complaint?" he inquired, and shifted, lightly pushing his hips downward as he straddled Cogsworth.
"Mmm." Cogsworth's eyes fluttered shut. "No. Not complaining, per se. Just." He groaned as Lumiere ran a slim finger down his chest.
"Just what, mon cher?" Lumiere said lightly. Carefully, he tipped the candle to the side.
Cogsworth gasped as the hot wax hit his chest. "Nothing," he sighed.
Cogsworth made a mental note to discuss this further when he was more capable of rational thought. This whole candle wax fetish thing was just disturbing.