The Medicine Seller wore a sweet smile, the kind that suggested he was more than happy to take Arthur up on the challenge. After all, it was less a matter of strength and more a matter of leverage. Arthur may be able to beat him in a brawl, but there was a world of difference between a bout of fisticuffs and a partner in bed eager to get fucked.

And while the Medicine Seller was built smaller, he was no slouch.

Flicking his tongue against Arthur's lips, he let the tip of his finger wander from the man's chin, down his throat, along his sternum and over his side. Then, turning and shifting his weight so that he had one knee braced against the side of the bed, he slipped his arms under Arthur to flip the man like a pancake.