"Is it now?" This, with a circular movement of his thumb for good measure.

Arthur's shoulders twitch upwards as he braces himself to support Crichton; abruptly, the idea of rendering Crichton unable to stand by his own power is very big and very compelling. He has to swallow again, amazed and a little dizzied.

"Holy crap," he echoes, "now come here." And with one hand sliding round to the dimples on the small of Crichton's back, the other staying right where it is, he encourages Crichton forward a step or two so that he can lay a kiss on the warm skin of his belly. The smell of Crichton surrounds him now, surprisingly exciting.