The Medicine Seller propped himself up on his elbow, his flushed cheek resting lazily on his knuckles as he watched with interest as Arthur prepared himself. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest and the occasional twitch of his hips in anticipation of what was to come, he's look almost like he did when they had snuggled last night; lazy and content.

Reaching forward, he patted Arthur's thigh, letting it turn into a slow, tender stroke of his fingers.

"You look so good like that," he remarked.