The creak of bedsprings warns him that Crichton is incoming. Arthur makes a noise as he's kissed, short and hungry, and pushes his tongue into Crichton's mouth. God, he's almost feeding Crichton -- feeding him his own -- jesus christ. There are electric currents running over Arthur's skin. Another briefer sound escapes his throat, and he shifts at the waist for the small relief it gives, and lifts his hands to the sides of Crichton's face.