Chuckling, he turns around and leans against the desk, pushing his hair from his face.

"A bed would be a fine idea for next time, perhaps. But I certainly have no issues with the desk."

He casually cleans himself up with a damp cloth he conjures up, then lets it disappear again before oozing his way into Emet-Selch's lap. He rests against him, stroking his hair out of his face affectionately.

"You must show me this bed, though. Is it as grand as your office?"