[ Q's notorious control is just as quickly vanishing. Especially for someone that's not a quick fuck, he doesn't want to be this way. He doesn't like to give himself so quickly. It's foolish.
And yet. There he is. His hand resting just above Arthur's knee as the kiss deepens. They can talk about it later when they've fucked away the physical need. Or they can prove it by attaining non-sexual intimacy in the morning. Whatever. He's only half thinking with his upper brain and it should bother him much more than it does.
[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.]
[ His eyes go wide, almost boyish. The kissing has to stop already?
Oh thank God. Q feels himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. He nods once as the kiss breaks, grinning softly but brighter than any he's shown tonight. ]
I thought you'd never ask. [ His eyes can't quite make contact with Arthur's as his hand pushes up his leg. ] I have been wanting to compare notes ... since the first date, really.
[ No sense in lying to the man. Q finally pulls away enough so they can make it to the bedroom. Arthur suggested it, so that's probably his comfort zone when it comes to -- well, bedroom matters. ]
[Arthur would be blushing more if his blood wasn't heading south. As it is, he's been rosy-cheeked for the last several minutes. He laughs softly, wishing in vain that Q's hand would be more adventurous before they went upstairs.
He rises too and drains his tea, then lightly laces their fingers together.] Speaking of notes, we'll be writing sheet music very soon I hope--[on their way up, he snorts]
--God, I'm sorry, that was awful.
[Arthur's house is very cluttered and cozy. It's full of photographs, bookshelves, knick-knacks and other odds and ends, all obviously with their own place--but there's so many things, it's obvious he's been living in this house for a very long time. The upstairs hall is lined with more exotic fare from Victoria's reign; like very, very old framed photos of Arthur in various events and places. There's even one of him in Egypt! In shorts and long socks next to a disgruntled camel on an excavation site. It's a house of nostalgia. He doesn't really have to say it out loud for an observant person to know he misses the glory days of the Empire.
At least his room is less cluttered and much tidier, and far more modern.]
[ Q manages a chuckle of his own. It helps that they're properly holding hands. Had they really done that before now? Q can't really seem to remember. Well, he himself has always had a small aversion to PDA. ]
Could have been worse. ... Barely.
[ The knick-knacks and memorabilia are not missed. But, Q is focused just enough on what they're doing to miss that every single person in the photographs and portraits is the same man holding his hand and leading him to the bedroom. ]
You're very worldly.
[ It's a mild compliment but one he does mean. One day, he hopes to hear a few of those stories. Of course, he doesn't realize that having attended any form of school or - you know living there - he already knows them.
More than anything, he's thankful he won't have to climb over some stuffed tiger to crawl into bed with him. Q feels much more comfortable now that they are in the privacy and sanctuary of a bedroom. It feels more final in what they're going to do. He lets go of Arthur's hand only to wrap it around his waist and kiss him on the jaw. ]
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And yet. There he is. His hand resting just above Arthur's knee as the kiss deepens. They can talk about it later when they've fucked away the physical need. Or they can prove it by attaining non-sexual intimacy in the morning. Whatever. He's only half thinking with his upper brain and it should bother him much more than it does.
It helps that Arthur is damn good at kissing. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
Oh thank God. Q feels himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. He nods once as the kiss breaks, grinning softly but brighter than any he's shown tonight. ]
I thought you'd never ask. [ His eyes can't quite make contact with Arthur's as his hand pushes up his leg. ] I have been wanting to compare notes ... since the first date, really.
[ No sense in lying to the man. Q finally pulls away enough so they can make it to the bedroom. Arthur suggested it, so that's probably his comfort zone when it comes to -- well, bedroom matters. ]
no subject
He rises too and drains his tea, then lightly laces their fingers together.] Speaking of notes, we'll be writing sheet music very soon I hope--[on their way up, he snorts]
--God, I'm sorry, that was awful.
[Arthur's house is very cluttered and cozy. It's full of photographs, bookshelves, knick-knacks and other odds and ends, all obviously with their own place--but there's so many things, it's obvious he's been living in this house for a very long time. The upstairs hall is lined with more exotic fare from Victoria's reign; like very, very old framed photos of Arthur in various events and places. There's even one of him in Egypt! In shorts and long socks next to a disgruntled camel on an excavation site. It's a house of nostalgia. He doesn't really have to say it out loud for an observant person to know he misses the glory days of the Empire.
At least his room is less cluttered and much tidier, and far more modern.]
no subject
Could have been worse. ... Barely.
[ The knick-knacks and memorabilia are not missed. But, Q is focused just enough on what they're doing to miss that every single person in the photographs and portraits is the same man holding his hand and leading him to the bedroom. ]
You're very worldly.
[ It's a mild compliment but one he does mean. One day, he hopes to hear a few of those stories. Of course, he doesn't realize that having attended any form of school or - you know living there - he already knows them.
More than anything, he's thankful he won't have to climb over some stuffed tiger to crawl into bed with him. Q feels much more comfortable now that they are in the privacy and sanctuary of a bedroom. It feels more final in what they're going to do. He lets go of Arthur's hand only to wrap it around his waist and kiss him on the jaw. ]
For someone who tells bad jokes.