"Oh," George glanced down, wondering how he was to do that with Wilson's legs tied, and he thought for a moment before moving down, kissing Wilson's stomach before he eased his hand down towards the bedside drawer, pulling out something and sitting back, still kissing wilson before a rip and a snip could be heard, another much the same following before George sat up, triumphant with scissors in one hand, the remains of wilson's boxers in another, "There." He felt rather smart, and bent to kiss along Wilson's hip.