Noel's back struck the chair with a dull thud.
For a brief, ridiculous moment, his first thought was that Arthur was far too close for a man who claimed propriety as easily as he breathed.
Arthur's arm braced itself against the chair's backrest with his gloved hand firm and unyielding. His other hand rested on the arm of the chair, caging Noel in completely. The faint scent of leather and something sharper... clove, perhaps... clung to him.
Noel immediately looked away.
He attempted to rise, hands pressing against the seat, but the pressure on the chair increased. Arthur did not move an inch.
"I suggest you remove yourself," Noel said coolly, though his pulse had begun to betray him. "This arrangement is highly... improper."
Arthur leaned closer.
"You will sit," he said softly, "until I am satisfied."
Noel exhaled through his nose and finally lifted his gaze.
"Move," he said again, slower now.
