come sail away IC inbox

[theotherright]

Cabin 127. No calls, we text like men on our disney cruise phones.

If you send Arthur a message it will be read out loud in one of a selection of friendly automated voices!

Comments

[theotherright]

Crichton is being patient, and kind, and Arthur is giving him nothing. The phrase 'blood from a stone' comes to mind, and he feels wretched for it.

"Let me," he says thickly, "try that again, without... being a prick. I... thank you. Very much. I-I, I'd like to try that."

He means it, and he wants Crichton to know it, and maybe if his instinct had been to say it first then he'd be a better person.

[ss_buttcrack]

"Hey," he says, bumping his shoulder lightly against Arthur's, "It's all right. I was the one sticking my nose in where it didn't belong. But, I'm glad I did. If it means I can help you feel better."

There's forgiving warmth in Crichton's tone. He knows. And he's not upset anymore now that he knows what the problem was.

"We'll give it a shot tonight. See how it goes. Sound good?"

[theotherright]

It's comforting. The tone, the shoulder bump, all of it. Honest to god comforting.

"That sounds good."

Arthur's need for that comfort overwhelms his feeling of guilt at accepting it, and now he leans the inches sideways onto Crichton's shoulder, and he searches for Crichton's hand again with his own.

[ss_buttcrack]

"Good." There's a smile in his voice Arthur can't miss. Crichton leans into the touch, letting his head bump into place against Arthur's while their hands intertwine. This is nice. He wouldn't mind staying this way for a while.