Justin's day had been bittersweet, the pleasures of the flesh tinged with the bitter note of worry. He couldn't deny it had been what he'd needed, though, and thus hadn't even bothered to fully dress afterward. He'd relaxed in his outer room, where his tv, floo, and couches were, wearing silk boxers and a matching robe.
All in all, it wasn't anything that would be unusual to those who knew him well, and whom he'd given access to his floo - a list that was very small indeed.
He looked up from an old episode of Monty Python to see Ernie stepping out of said floo, and grinned as he watched his mate dust himself off.
"You came in just in time - I think the Dead Parrot Sketch is next!"