"You don’t have to be so touchy-feely about it!" Harold exclaimed, bringing up his own hands to press against the strong arms that snaked around his middle, pulling him flush against the older male. "I’m just letting you get this off your chest as an experiment, remember? Relieve some pressure of whatever pressure’s making you go coo-coo for Harold-puffs, nothing more than that!"

"Hmm." Arthur replied, not budging even the slightest against the other male’s physical protests. He leaned in just enough so their foreheads were touching, eyes closed, focusing on how utterly perfect the man felt in his arms— even though he was well aware these thoughts were only the effects of that damned spell. The spell that brought on these damned feelings for Harold in the first place.

The bartender stilled himself, holding his breath instinctively as they just stood there for a while. Arthur’s forehead was unbelievably cold against his own, as were his hands against his back.

When Arthur opened his eyes finally, Harold felt his whole body heat up underneath the gaze— a gaze he didn’t want to familiarize himself with. At least not when it was coming from this man, of all people. He glanced his eyes away.

A gasp was let out when Arthur closed the space between their mouths, connecting their lips in a surprisingly gentle, tender kiss.

Harold’s fingers curled into the fabric of the man’s sleeve, eyes clenching shut.

Another cracky ship in another derpy AU between Mal and I’s characters. 9u6/