We won't go too much into Arthur's previous experiences in bed, but they were such that he's suddenly hit with the mortifying possibility that he'll be about as excited as a dead fish, and then have to make excuses for it, and face the disappointment involved. Historically, he and his body have sometimes had different ideas about what they wanted.

He attempts to take control of the situation. "You first," he says sweetly, and the touch at Crichton's blushing neck becomes a hold. "You didn't think I-I'd let you have the whole advantage, did you? I'd like to finally take a look at you, Crichton." The soft squeeze, one finger at a time, is probably completely unnecessary for Crichton to figure out what he means by looking.