Piggybacking off the clingy John idea I've seen floating around in the tag:
John, looking down at Arthur, who's sitting in an armchair, eating or practising braille or whatever, one leg over the other: excuse me.
John: can you get that shit the fuck off my spot, I would like to sit down.
Arthur: wh- oh! Right, yes, sorry.
Oscar: Jesus Christ, John, there's a free armchair right over the-
Arthur: [adjusts his position so John can crawl on his lap like a cat and then casually resumes whatever he was doing.]
Arthur, on the phone: oh no, I'm terribly sorry, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to reschedule. I'm-
Arthur: [looks down at where John is lying with his head on his lap and a blissed out expression on his face while Arthur is petting him like a spoiled housecat.]
Arthur: -positively swamped with work right now. Can we move this to, I don't know, December?
Arthur: John, I'm telling you, I feel fine!
John: the doctor said a week, Arthur.
Arthur: well, I feel good enough to be out of bed now, and there's a lot of work to catch up on so if you excuse me-
John: [just wordlessly rolls over and on top of Arthur to pin him down, then goes back to napping.]
John: [walks into the room and sits down on the couch] alright, I'm back. What did I- oh wait hang on.
John: [stands up, yoinks a visibly resigned to his fate Arthur away from whatever he was doing, drags him over to the couch, and sits back down while hugging him like a teddybear]: alright, I'm back. What did I miss?
John, hugging Arthur from behind with his chin resting on top of his head: you should eat more, Arthur. Feels like I'm holding a fucking skeleton over here.
Arthur, who hasn't moved in an hour: yeah okay I'll make a note of that.
Oscar: have you tried to just... tell him to get off?
Arthur, with John once again draped over him: Oscar, I've tried a crowbar.
Noel, unsubtly manspreading to make his lap look comfy and spacious and attractive: y'know John if Arthur is too small and bony to sit on, you could always-
John, from another room: Arthur, it's 11pm, I'm going to bed.
Arthur, setting down a pile of case files: but I'm not finished-
John: you can finish tomorrow.
Arthur: [sighs, gets up, brushes his teeth, changes into his sleepwear, and gets into bed so John can snuggle up to him.]
Noel: [on all levels except the physical, pspspsing at John like he's a cat]
John, draped over Arthur like a blanket: [ignores him]
Arthur: [trying very hard not to be visibly smug]
Arthur: [spends an entire dinner, talking and eating and stuff, with John's head on his shoulder. Occasionally he'll hold up a French fry for John to eat. Neither of them acknowledges this in any way.]
Arthur, "looking" down at where John is snuggled up to his chest: call me Claudette Colbert the way handsome men want to shove their faces into my tits.
Oscar and Noel: [sitting across from them and absolutely seething with envy for so many reasons.]
John: try not to get any chest or stomach wounds again, alright?
Arthur amused: because you can't lie down on top of me then?
John, currently plastered to his side and fussing with the bandages: well, those are scary and take a long time to heal, but yeah, that too.
John: Arthur, for fuck's sake, I'm going to miss my appointment!
Arthur, curled up on his lap and knowing full well that John wouldn't shove him off even at gunpoint or if the world was ending: payback's a bitch, John :)
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