Jonathan Sims

Martin startles slightly at the touch to his chin, sitting up a little straighter at the facetious scrutiny that follows. No matter the absurdity of the circumstances, however silly John's intentions or however sick and tired he feels, he can't help but feel a little thrill over that sort of proprietary attention. It's ridiculous, and he could easily lose himself in blushing embarrassment if John wasn't so quick to follow up with even further nonsense, busily sculpting a hat out of shampoo suds. Embarrassment forgotten, Martin starts giggling again, turning into a full bout of laughter at the idea of going into work wearing a fascinator, made of bubbles or otherwise.

"All I need now is a monocle," he says before a cough finally gets the better of him, and he slumps again, tired but still smiling. "I'll be the talk of the town, or... something."

He looks up a John, his smile growing softer and fonder before he shuts his eyes again. He means to say something about how they've had their fun and he could probably do with a rinse now, but he ends up just letting out a contented little hum.