"Ah?"  The thigh sounded like a horrible place to be stabbed.  But more pressing than that was the fact that Arthur had seen Malachi's thighs before, and he's still managed to miss the damn mark.  He supposed both times Malachi had been undressed in front of him weren't really the best circumstances to memorize his skin, but knowing he could have noticed it and didn't made him frustrated.

And then Malachi kissed him, and Arthur's frustration turned to fury.  "Hurry the fffuck up," he demanded, voice rough and shaky.  How could he do this to him, kiss Arthur while he was like this?  When it was so important that he not move, not even to kiss him back?

How cruel this man was.  And how lucky Arthur was to call Malachi his.

"Ah - hhah, Mal, shit," he hissed.  The doctor's hand let go of his hair and pressed against his face instead, only to immediately jerk away from his bruised and broken nose.  "Fuck, ah, fuck me, Jesus... you don't hold back when you're pissed, do you..?"