Martin hadn't thought this would ever come up again, and he certainly never gave any thought what to expect in that unimagined hypothetical, but he really should have anticipated John going to mortified pieces. He can't help grinning as John struggles to pull together a response, though he lets out a soft, sympathetic coo when John sets the bottle aside and retreats inward, hiding his face. Whatever satisfaction Martin might derive from finally highlighting the ridiculousness of that moment, he has never been much for prolonged teasing of any kind, and he has no desire to see John even lightly tormented over it.

Still, John's eventual protestation catches him off guard, and Martin deteriorates into helpless giggling before he can offer any kind of reassurance. He ends up pitching against John's shoulder, covering his own face in an effort to stifle himself. The whole thing is just so funny to him now, but he still would prefer to get a hold of himself and coax John out of his embarrassed curl.

"Sorry, m'sorry," he babbles. "I know you did. It was just so—" He flaps a hand, abandoning that thought as both obvious and unnecessary. Still shaking off his own amusement, he looks at John fondly and offers, "You were proper wasted," with a genial little nudge.