Chapter Text
His thumb ghosted upon his lips, feeling the way the top lip pulled up towards his nose—leaving his teeth bare—and the misshapen cupid's bow. They were thick and cracked, and Arthur pressed the small gap that exposed his teeth.
“Mmmh,” John hummed, “My lips came out weird, almost. They’re deformed, in a way. Sorry.” He mumbled around Arthur's fingers, which were now prodding at the rest of his face, feeling his moles and stubble.
“Shush. There’s no need to apologise. I think it’s quite charming, actually.” Arthur could feel the way John heated up, and it made him grin. “I find such ‘impurities’ beautiful. I like the feeling of the way your lip goes to your nostril, and I like the feel of your cold teeth, exposed to the air. It's nice.”
Arthur brought his hands down to his lips again, prying them open, and John obliged. He felt his way around his teeth, poking them at the sharpened canines, flinching away as they dug into the pads of his fingers.