His own breath shudders in his throat at the sound of his name in Sheehan's mouth, and he kisses forcefully up his neck to his mouth again, matching Sheehan's rolling hips with his hand, tight and fast.
"You're fucking incredible, Les. I love you so much..."
He groans quietly himself, at the bruising force of Sheehan's grip, but he doesn't stop, keeping his hand moving on Sheehan until he goes fully limp beneath him; and then he settles to sit in Sheehan's lap to take the pressure off his knees, and cups Sheehan's jaw in his clean hand to gently tilt him up for another kiss, soft and tired and sweet.
The smile is still there when Sheehan opens his eyes again, deeply and utterly taken by him. "Wouldn't dream of it," he hums, as he peppers a few more kisses across Sheehan's cheek and forehead.
And Arthur laughs, giving Sheehan a playfully dramatic kiss on the forehead when he manages to get to his feet. "I'm afraid I already did. Or haven't you heard the French?"
And admittedly his first few steps are a limp, between shaky post-orgasm legs and the bad idea of kneeling the entire time, but it's only a minute before he's in and out of the bathroom, wiping himself down with a cloth before he brings a warm, damp one back to give Sheehan a clean as well.
"I'm afraid I never learned much French," he teases , sitting up and standing, stretching his arms over his head. He draws up a bit of magic to clean the sheets, then takes the cloth as offered from Arthur.
"I learned enough Japanese to impress my girlfriend and that seemed like enough."
He hums as he sits next to Sheehan, pressing a knee against his. "I never learned it formally, of course. Picked it up in passing somewhere between all the speakeasies."
He leans back on his hands, admiring Sheehan's back as he cleans up. "Apparently in French, it's called- something like petit mort. A small death."
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"You're fucking incredible, Les. I love you so much..."
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His fingers dig into Arthur's back as he comes, hard and groaning, into his fist.
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"Deliriously." Resting his forehead against Sheehan's for a moment, just- enjoying the moment a little longer.
Before he goes to push himself up again, with an aching groan. "And I'll be more so once we're cleaned up."
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"After you," he groans. "Just leave me here to die."
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And admittedly his first few steps are a limp, between shaky post-orgasm legs and the bad idea of kneeling the entire time, but it's only a minute before he's in and out of the bathroom, wiping himself down with a cloth before he brings a warm, damp one back to give Sheehan a clean as well.
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"I learned enough Japanese to impress my girlfriend and that seemed like enough."
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He leans back on his hands, admiring Sheehan's back as he cleans up. "Apparently in French, it's called- something like petit mort. A small death."
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"It's not small, though." And he turns to gave Arthur a wink once he's clean. "You ready for bed?"
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He flips off the lamp and turns to wrap his arms around Arthur to playfully pull him down to bed.