"But you could have your pick, of that I am certain," he says, smiling. He inches his leg higher on Watson and pulls him in closer against his body, not wanting any space between them.

"I could tell you precisely which pub to go to, and you would have the attention of every queer in the place." He pauses, and his smile turns playful. "Especially if you wear your uniform, but you don't need such crutches."

Still grinning, he leans in for a kiss, slow and exploring and tender.