[ Bradbury echoes Sherlock's snort, the amusement breaking the tension -- for him, at least -- and his shoulders relax, the tightness in them easing. ]

Pretty sure trying to set the mood would end up with your fist in my kidneys, so I'd rather not. [ And his breath rushes from him in an amused huff. ] Don't make this any weirder than it already is.

[ And that's all the warning Sherlock gets before Bradbury's hand finds his face in the darkness, thumb resting on his chin and tipping it up so he can plant a firm, close-mouthed his on his lips. ]