Holmes grins, almost to himself, and his ears turn slightly red with pleasure over hearing Watson admit something so wonderfully... perfect as that. It's somewhat frightening to presume that they might be soulmates, perhaps, as that's such a grand thing to believe, but Holmes is starting to wonder if it isn't true.

"I love you," he murmurs, still smiling, and he kisses Watson's forehead gently. "And there is no one better for me than you. Come, my darling boy. My bed might be a little more forgiving than the floor." He pushes himself up into a sitting position and glances around, looking for their clothes. "We ought to tidy up a bit too, before we retire."