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Izzy thinks of it as setting the tone for the day—contented captain, contented ship.
Easier that, calling it an exercise in morale, than putting a name to the urge that has him shuffling under the blanket shortly after waking, his eyes barely open, moving quietly and carefully as he takes Frenchie's soft cock in hand and lowers his mouth to it. He's part of the crew himself, after all, and so maybe it's only natural that the contentment be his as well as he spends a long and formless time slowly sucking, feeling Frenchie come awake in shallow waves, until questing fingers curl into Izzy's hair and he hears that first happy sigh of the morning.