"Centuries of practice." Puck said like he was divulging a company secret. "No, it's because you're equally good at sharing; and I'm good at picking things up." He smiled at the kiss to his head. "You really don't need to, but-- I'm feeling better enough, I think."

Puck stretched his left leg and flinched as a twinge of pain shot through it. "No, I spoke too soon-- my left leg is still sore. But I think a walk would help work this out more than anything else." It reminded him of overworking muscles at the gym, if anything.

"Care to get dressed and join me?" Puck likewise enjoyed the cuddling and everything else that went on, but he was also going to keep his promise. A walk, or anything else first. Maybe even some poetry if he felt like it.