not to sound cosmic, but...

Art was fresh from the shower, hair still damp and skin dewy, scrolling through options on the TV with one hand while the other stroked your calf. He felt your gaze and glanced over, smile playing on his lips. "You sure you don't want to pick something?"

You shook your head. "I'm perfectly happy like this." And you were, content to dwell on Art's profile as he chose a show and put it on, stretching back on the couch with an arm behind his head. His other hand stilled on your leg as he focused on the television, but you were needy for his attention. You arched a foot, using your toes to tap his leg until Art shook his head, a knowing grin on his face, and resumed his motions.

You basked in his easy touch for a while but you still weren't satisfied, so finally, you propped yourself up on your elbows to fix Art with a pleading look. He was so attuned to you that he immediately reached for the remote and paused before turning and waiting for you to speak.

"You're really far away."

A short laugh escaped from his mouth as his fingers circled your ankle, tugging slightly. "Then c'mere."

You immediately acquiesed, clambering up and tossing one leg over both of his. This was your favorite place in the world, settled into Art's lap. Chest to chest, legs bracketing his, your face tucked into the nook of his shoulder. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers loosely twisting the curls at the back of his head. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, against yours.

Art's hands found their way under your sweatshirt, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the sensitive skin on your lower back, occasionally dipping into the waistband of your panties. It wasn't necessarily sexual, just comforting, but it still wasn't enough. You could never be close enough to Art.

With a slow exhale, you pressed your lips to the soft spot below his ear. "Will you put your cock in me?"

His breath came out in a huff. "Baby," he murmured.

"I know you're tired, we don't have to do anything." You said into his skin. "Just wanna be close to you."

Art didn't respond right away, but his fingers stilled and he wrapped his arms tight around your waist in a hug, kissing your temple simultaneously. "Yeah, that sounds nice." He loosened his grip to scoop under your thighs, lifting you off his lap a bit. You complied, kneeling over Art so that he could tug down his shorts enough to free himself.

Art lifted the hem of your sweatshirt to your ribs, kissing your belly as he rolled your panties down to your knees. You watched his face as his eyes trailed down your legs, brushing some loose hair back from his forehead.

"Can you take them all the way off?" You asked shyly, and he looked up at you with a soft smile.

"You're going to have to get up."

You pouted, resting your forehead against his for a brief moment before standing. His fingers trailed down your thighs, nails grazing the skin, until he hooked them into your panties and pulled them the rest of the way down. It only took a moment to kick the underwear onto the floor and resituate yourself on Art's thighs, face in his neck.

Art brought one hand up to scratch soothingly at your scalp as the other wound between your legs. You jolted slightly at the first touch to your clit, and he shushed you quietly. "Just making sure you're ready, don't want to hurt you."

Your whimpers were muffled into Art's throat as he rubbed small circles onto you. You were conflicted between wanting to arch out of contact, to keep the intimacy relaxed, and wanting to bear down on his hand for more stimulation. But he made the decision for you, keeping his touch feather light, warming you up just enough.

Eventually, he dipped his finger into you and was satisfied at the wetness pooled there. "Okay?" He asked, moving to grasp himself by the base.

"Yeah," you said, lifting your hips slightly. You let him handle you into place, happy to relinquish control, until finally you sank onto his cock. The slow stretch was familiar, as was the feeling of complete fullness when your hips met his. You both held your breath for a moment, adjusting to the stillness.

"'s good." You mumbled, nipping the lobe of Art's ear.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, hands flush on your back under your hoodie. "Feels nice."

You hummed softly, closing your eyes and settling in. You could almost fall asleep like this, surrounded by the familiarity of Art's body and scent, feeling him throbbing inside of you. "You can keep watching your show." You whispered after a minute.

"Mm-mm."

"No?"

"No, just want to stay like this."

You kissed his neck in response, which immediately set off a chain reaction: Art's hips twitched up into yours, you fluttered around him, he groaned into your ear, you clenched down unintentionally.

"Fuck," he muttered, and you let out a breathless laugh into the collar of his shirt. You had tensed a bit, and Art rubbed a hand over your strained thigh. "Relax, honey."

When you did, sinking back down an inch, you couldn't hold back the whine in your throat. "Okay," you whispered. "Maybe we should just-"

Art didn't give you a chance to finish. "It's okay, look at me." His hand found your chin, tilting it toward him so that he could kiss you sweetly.

You nudged your nose against his. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he murmured, lips touching your forehead this time.

It was almost unbelievable how good you felt: aroused and cozy and wanted and loved and full and held and tranquil all at once. Your head dropped lower onto Art's shoulder, and he drew goosebumps down your spine. His other hand held your hips tightly in place; Art wouldn’t let you bounce on him even if you had the energy to. With nothing to distract you, you were hyper aware of the way you leaked around him, slick coating his pubic hair and inner thighs.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Uh-huh." You mouthed into his collarbone. "Tired." You admitted.

"You wanna go to bed?"

"No. I want to stay here."

"Yeah? You want to fall asleep like this, on my cock?" His voice was warm, more awestruck than teasing, but your face flushed anyway. "I don't mind," he continued, mouth on the crown of your head. "Dunno if I can fall asleep with you squeezing me like that, but I'm very comfortable."

"Art," you whispered, pleading, though unsure what for.

"I know, baby. Just relax, just go to sleep."

You let out a low whine. “Just hold me like this?”

“Yeah,” he promised, another kiss on your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.” His abs were tense with the effort it took not to thrust up into you, but it was worth it to have you like this, soft and sweet and pliable and needy in his lap.