Oh, his name. He's never been overly fond of it, and prefers Holmes; it sounds more, well, like an actual name that's worthy of a little respect. Still, no one else has a name like Sherlock, for better or for worse (probably the latter), and being unique is not something that generally upsets him.

And at least now that would only make two people currently in his life who feel free to use his given name. Two people aren't very difficult to bear.

"You shall if you wish. I'm afraid I wouldn't answer to Robert if you decided to call me that." He smiles faintly and kisses Watson's collarbone, thinking distantly of their comfortable bed but finding it difficult to want to get up now.

"In that case, I appreciate your contributions to my vanity." He lifts his head to kiss Watson tenderly, and draws back enough to look in his eyes. "I'm not sure I could live with myself if I didn't tell you emphatically enough that you are a spectacularly beautiful creature, to the point that you might believe me."