Your social guides give you swollen eyes|

[spuriously]

[ Jesus Christ, what did they do last night? ]

[ Sebastian's one of those kinds of people, those assholes who can drink like a fish and fuck like a champion still and then they wake up and everything's dandy. He's got a schedule, after all, and partying and fucking and all those extracurricular activities aren't going to get in the way of the perfect five year plan. He's got uni, he's got an internship lined up, and that'll lead him straight to the top, father's company, blah blah blah, it's probably detailed somewhere. But like hell is he going to give those vices up either. ]

[ It means he's up before Sherlock, annoyingly so, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and patting around on his shelf for the pack of cigarettes Sherlock has laying around somewhere. The homo's draped across his middle with his face all planted into his bare stomach. Seb's eyes roll, as he sniffs and paws at his nose, jostles his knee into Sherlock where he lies. ] Oi. I can't feel my leg. Thanks for that. Earth to Holmes.