"I was very eager to make the mess, and I didn't complain about having to pick it up, if you'll notice." Holmes grins, close to laughter himself, and takes a minute just to appreciate the way Watson looks when he's naked and cheeky and playful and silly; to appreciate how happy they are, how easily they fit together. How perfect this simple moment is, walking to bed with their clothes in their arms.
Once he's done doing that, he lifts an eyebrow at Watson, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "Oh is that so? Well, well."
He may have been ridden vigorously and shortly thereafter rode Watson vigorously, but his reflexes are not too sluggish to prevent him from slipping behind Watson and wrapping his arms snugly around Watson's waist and chest. He has no real intent to pick Watson up, not interested in another wrestling match as he doesn't think he has a third round in him, but he does make efforts to lift Watson briefly off the floor, once or twice.
"What sort of dire circumstances am I looking at?" he asks playfully in Watson's ear; the laughter that hadn't quite broken through yet takes him now, and he laughs against Watson's neck, his nose nudging his hair.
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Once he's done doing that, he lifts an eyebrow at Watson, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "Oh is that so? Well, well."
He may have been ridden vigorously and shortly thereafter rode Watson vigorously, but his reflexes are not too sluggish to prevent him from slipping behind Watson and wrapping his arms snugly around Watson's waist and chest. He has no real intent to pick Watson up, not interested in another wrestling match as he doesn't think he has a third round in him, but he does make efforts to lift Watson briefly off the floor, once or twice.
"What sort of dire circumstances am I looking at?" he asks playfully in Watson's ear; the laughter that hadn't quite broken through yet takes him now, and he laughs against Watson's neck, his nose nudging his hair.