Kissing Sheehan was easy. The warm contact, familiar hands glossing over his chest and back, working soft noises out of him until he can back Sheehan against the bed and grab his belt loops to keep him from falling back immediately and losing contact.
"Lie down, doctor," he teases after another breathless kiss, "And we'll see about getting that massage started."
He had forgotten where they started, dizzy and joyous and laughing. But now he remembers and he settles himself back on the bed, turning to his stomach, his hands under his cheek.
Arthur just laughs, climbing easily to mount Sheehan's thighs again and leaning forward to press a kiss into the back of his shoulder.
"I'll try not to disappoint." Though he can't say he's given anyone much of a massage before, really. Hell, he rarely ever even saw Bella without her shift, let alone actually touched her naked much after that bad luck.
Still, he rolls his gloves back, so he can enjoy the touch of Sheehan's warm back under his hands, even if he has to shift his left hand a little to try and avoid the scrape of the wooden pinky against him, and slides his calloused hands gently up his spine to start the gentle massage.
Sheehan's a charismatic, attractive doctor in his thirties. He's had a few hands on him, rubbing his shoulders usually, but this slightly stilted, calloused massage is already one of his favorites.
He relaxes, turning his face the other way, eyes closed.
"Careful, detective. I might get used to this," he mumbles.
"Mm, perhaps you ought to," he hums through another chuckle. "It's the only way I'm going to get any good at it, after all."
And admittedly there's some fascination in seeing Sheehan laid out like this beneath him, feeling the shifts of muscle and knots under his fingers, and he catches himself staring like he can commit it all to memory as he presses his thumbs in more to drag smoothly between his shoulder blades.
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"Lie down, doctor," he teases after another breathless kiss, "And we'll see about getting that massage started."
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"This better be worth the wait," he teases.
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"I'll try not to disappoint." Though he can't say he's given anyone much of a massage before, really. Hell, he rarely ever even saw Bella without her shift, let alone actually touched her naked much after that bad luck.
Still, he rolls his gloves back, so he can enjoy the touch of Sheehan's warm back under his hands, even if he has to shift his left hand a little to try and avoid the scrape of the wooden pinky against him, and slides his calloused hands gently up his spine to start the gentle massage.
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He relaxes, turning his face the other way, eyes closed.
"Careful, detective. I might get used to this," he mumbles.
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And admittedly there's some fascination in seeing Sheehan laid out like this beneath him, feeling the shifts of muscle and knots under his fingers, and he catches himself staring like he can commit it all to memory as he presses his thumbs in more to drag smoothly between his shoulder blades.
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"I should have you trained up before we leave, it's true. Put you on a schedule."
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"I can't see us having much time when we're back, true. You'll be off revolutionising therapy techniques, put the asylums to fucking shame."
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"I might open my own practice and operate through the asylums. I know what I'm good at, but I want to do what I want how I want."
He hums. "And I can come home more often to you and Faroe."