Awhile later, Robin once again considered suggesting a shower, but was too comfortable to move-- that was, beyond the stuff in his hair and along the sides of his face that was currently deciding to turn into a form of cement. Marian did not have to worry about that too much, with the egg/sugar mixture having been cleaned up as soon as he got her shirt off. But, lazing together as the afterglow faded was worth feeling his hair start to harden into small clumps.
His arm had been resting above his head, and as he moved it down beside himself, it landed in a bunch of fine grit, his fingers bumping against the empty whipped cream can. "Maybe we should just burn the bedsheets; they may be beyond salvaging," he suggested with a chuckle.