Arthur makes a little mph! noise as Crichton launches himself into another kiss; it's a surprised sound, but also one that Crichton will have heard plenty of times before, enough to know that it's entirely positive. He kisses back hard, lifting a hand to move possessively through Crichton's hair, delighted by the reception his little poem got.

Whenever he thinks about that awkward and mistimed moment back in October, it feels like years ago. And yet the fact that he can kiss Crichton, and Crichton will kiss him, so freely and unabashedly still seems in some ways incredible. That he was afraid his feelings would scare Crichton away seems more incredible still; sometimes, trying to understand it feels like sitting in the morning light attempting to grasp what was so frightening about a nightmare. Would it have been like this if he took a chance in his world--?

Well. He's here, not there.

...One of them is going to have to come up for air eventually.