Watson drew in a long breath, feeling like he hadn't been breathing, like he was in desperate need of air. He wrapped an arm around Holmes, cradling him close, his fingers toying in his hair. Finding a convenient bit of skin, he pressed several long, slow, gentle kisses against Holmes's arm, his shoulder, his neck.

He was afraid to say anything, afraid of shattering this moment, and instead endeavoured to say as much as he could without words: I love you, I am very much yours, stay with me, that was some bloody incredible sex.