He's more than thrilled to have poetry read back at him, and though Watson perhaps lacks the acting chops, really he doesn't need them very much. He has the voice of an author when he reads, and the face of a romantic hero, so if he tried to act it would just seem cheesy. As it is, he's very sincere, and Holmes definitely gets the message he's trying to convey.

"And you read sincerely," he murmurs softly, "which is just as important as performing." He kisses Watson softly, his hand gently trailing down his chest. He's still smiling as he draws away, and he kisses Watson's nose too, for good measure.

"I can't remember the last time I had a naked poetry reading on the sitting room floor, on a bearskin rug, before a fire." He chuckles throatily and kisses Watson's throat, nuzzling closer.