Arthur hummed in approval at Malachi's reluctant promise, more than a little amused by his pout.  He leaned forward to kiss him again, short and sweet, as a reward.  "You were very good, Malachi.  Let me take off your trousers, now, and stay there.  Remember to watch me."

The doctor's hands worked diligently at the top of Malachi's pants, even lifted the man's hips for him to pull them down.  Even though he was loathe to get up, he really would prefer Malachi's clothes all the way off, so he stood for only as long as it took to take off Malachi's shoes and pants.  He settled back onto the couch when he was done, eyes already on the scar on Malachi's thigh where he'd touched before.

"Hmm... yes, I see it now," he said, observing the skin with an overly critical eye.  Arthur rubbed over it again with his thumb, eyes narrowing.

"See, whoever did this was a piece of shit," he explained very seriously.  "I can see it in the stitch pattern here at the top, and the uneven way it healed here.  Yes, a very terrible piece of shit.  Horrible detective too, or whatever he was.  Should have never touched someone like you, but it's alright.  I have just the thing for this."

He rubbed circles around the scar for a moment longer before he leaned down, teeth bared.  Harsh, like their first night together, Arthur bit the scarred skin and quickly soothed it with his tongue.  He kissed and sucked, focusing his efforts on where the skin was darkest and most raised and bit again, repeating the cycle until a bruise had formed, hiding any evidence a stab wound had ever been there to begin with.

"There we are," he said, very pleased with himself.  "Much better like that, don't you think so, my darling Malachi?  This is difficult treatment, but I'm happy to provide it to you whenever you need it.  And even when you don't - better safe than sorry, you know."