Rory let out a half yelp, half laugh as the world flipped upside down. “Ace, put me down!” he demanded, as Arthur strode down the hall.
“You should watch who you’re complimenting with that mouth.”
“Arthur!”
A moment later, Arthur tossed him down on the bed, making Rory laugh again. Arthur slid the suit jacket from his shoulders in one easy move and then was on the bed with him, on all fours over him in his shirtsleeves, vest, and bow tie. “When exactly did I agree you could be this cute?” he said, lowering his body to cover Rory. “In fact, I distinctly recall telling you to stick togo to hellso I wouldn’t end up completely owned.”
Arthur was built like a big six and Rory should have felt squashed but it was perfect, just comforting weight on top of him. Arthur had to have been aching for it but he wasn’t moving for more, instead lazily pressing his lips to Rory’s like he had all the time in the world for just kisses. Rory shivered and let his eyes close, soaking it in.
Arthur gently pulled off his glasses and set them to the side. “What, no sassy comeback?”
“Not with you on me like this,” Rory admitted.
“How sweet,” Arthur said, low and warm. “I haven’t seen you this relaxed since you fell asleep on my lap on the way home after Coney Island—”
He paused.
Then he suddenly went in for a deep kiss, tongue slipping into Rory’s mouth, cupping Rory’s head and weaving curls between his fingers.
Rory melted, soft and unresisting, enjoying the hand in his hair and the gentle rasp of prickly stubble against his own lips and skin. Distantly, he felt Arthur’s fingers trace the side of his face, over his jaw for a moment before sliding on, across Rory’s shoulder, down his arm to his hand.
Arthur shifted forward and kissed him more demandingly as he tangled their fingers together, scattering the last of Rory’s brain into space, until nothing mattered but the taste of Arthur’s lips and tongue—
There was a tug on Rory’s finger.
And then Arthur broke the kiss. “There we go.”
Rory blinked. Right in front of his face, close enough to see without his glasses, Arthur was now holding the Tempest Ring.
Rory’s eyes widened as he grabbed his left hand with his right and felt his now-bare ring finger. “You got it off!”
“Yes I did.” Arthur sounded pleased with himself.
“But how? How’d you know you could do it?”
“I didn’t,” Arthur admitted. “But the ring’s been reacting to your emotions, and it’s not been an easy few days for you, has it? A night in a monastery, tension between us, hearing about my—”
Rory raised his eyebrows.
“—my old friend,” Arthur corrected hastily. “At any rate, I remembered the ring came off without issue when you were knackered after Coney Island, and seeing you like this in my bed, finally calm and relaxed again, I thought maybe I could try.” He hesitated. “I thought I understood that you wanted it off, but if I overstepped—”
Rory launched himself up and threw his arms around his neck, drawing a surprised and happymmphfrom Arthur as Rory knocked him down on his back onto the other side of the mattress.
“You’re amazing,” said Rory, which put a pleased, almost shy smile on Arthur below him.
“I’m not the one who can start tempests indoors.” Arthur rolled them over, putting himself on top again, and then pulled back.
“Where’re you going?” Rory demanded, as Arthur stood from the bed.
“I’m two seconds away from complete distraction and I need to deal with this ring first.”
Rory quickly sat up, snatching his glasses and shoving them on. “Just put it on the dresser and come back so I can kiss you. You must be going nuts, come on.”
“The ring is being put out of your reach first.”
Rory huffed. “You don’t gotta do that.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Arthur disappeared through the bedroom door, his voice drifting back. “And it’s going somewhere that isnotmy briefcase or my safe, both of which a certain psychometric thinks he’s entitled to crack.”
