[One hand of Arthur's strays south, just to spread its fingers over Q's chest and sit there lightly. His kisses are slow but insistent, growing more impatient as the seconds pass. Use of his tongue is fleeting for now. It simply flicks across Q's mouth before Arthur reluctantly draws back. His eyes are lidded but clear and sharp.
Arthur hasn't taken his hand from Q's cheek yet, nor the one that rests over his heart through that hilariously cozy cardigan. He hopes his timing is correct, and not some mistake that'll ruin the entire evening.]
I'd--I think we ought to retire upstairs, if you like. [He certainly wouldn't take offense if he was turned down, nor would he insist if the answer was no.] We could compare penmanship. [With their tongues.]
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Arthur hasn't taken his hand from Q's cheek yet, nor the one that rests over his heart through that hilariously cozy cardigan. He hopes his timing is correct, and not some mistake that'll ruin the entire evening.]
I'd--I think we ought to retire upstairs, if you like. [He certainly wouldn't take offense if he was turned down, nor would he insist if the answer was no.] We could compare penmanship. [With their tongues.]