Cal reaches up automatically to touch Sherlock's cheek and - and that is definitely some five o'clock shadow under his fingers there. He's not sure what to think about that, so.

He doesn't.

Not thinking isn't exactly much of a chore right now, anyway. This is - this fits. This makes sense.

However he might feel about it in thirty seconds, right now he can't imagine a single reason why it didn't happen sooner.